History of War
by Calkat
Summary: Mai goes to London, home of the original S.P.R. where she will be tested, and trained in her latent talent. Amid pressure from a nasty researcher and her suddenly absent psychic power, Mai is in a bit of trouble. Welcome to the History of War.  Sequel
1. Prologue: Fading into Normality

**History of War**

Prologue: Fading into Normality

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2.8.10

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AN: _**FYI**_ this MAY or MAY NOT be taken as a sequel to Aversion Theory. It will be written as a standalone story, so you probably won't need to know (Famous last words…) the back story in Aversion Theory, but there is character development you may miss as to why Naru and Mai are closer and potentially considered "together" in this story.

Also, note, this story _**will **_venture into some serious themes. The story is happy in some places, and easygoing at first, but later on, there will be sexual situations, alcohol, narcotics (they are at a research facility) and violent scenarios. That's why this will be rated M from the get-go. Please avoid this story if, a.) you don't like it, or b.) Mature themes are not to your liking.

On that note, please enjoy History of War.

* * *

The 18th of July had never been a particularly important date to Mai Taniyama with the exception that it was considered a small part of her sacred summer vacation away from dreadful school with its well-meant, if slave-driven intentions. July 18th meant that she had a little under a month and a half before she would be back in school for her final year of education, her exam year. She planned to try to test into several universities (nothing grand as there was no way she could afford it) because that was what was expected of the average Japanese student. It would then carry her into an average white-collar job, cramming her hopes, dreams and livelihood into a 1.2 by 1.2 meter cubicle where she could carry on working for the rest of her life.

Michiru was following the same career path. Yuuri had the same intentions, even though her parents wanted her to inherit their piscine shop outside of Shibuya, and Keiko was already planning out her marriage and housewife-dom to Hiroki (who had no idea what was waiting for him on the other side of graduation like a trapdoor spider).

The problem with the average career path was the very nagging fact that Taniyama Mai was not the average person. Sure, she was smart. She was also unquestionably dedicated to anything she did. But there was the small and worrying tendency she had in seeing supernatural spirits on increasingly frequent occasions. Lately, though, Mai suspected that Naru had declined all the recent cases, no matter how viable they were because Mai had stumbled into a little trouble on their last case. After two weeks of denials, even Yasuhara had given up trying to convince their boss—and Yasuhara was normally unrelenting like a bulldog who wouldn't let go once it bit down.

Having the ability to see ghosts kind of took you out of the 'average schmuck' category and threw you into the 'freak/weirdo/abnormal' cesspool, which Mai embraced openly; after all, what was a little slumming when you're with good friends? If it was okay with them, it was okay by her.

But until school started, Mai would be far away from Japan with no studying if she had her say (it was vacation after all), and even further removed from any semblance of _normal_—in London…with Naru. Which made her a jumble of conflicting emotions: nervous (muggers, and an unfamiliar area); excited to travel (_shiny new places!_); happy (she was with Naru!) and _worried (oh god—she was with __**Naru)**__._

Mai had worked it over in her head several times and even rationalizing she had yet to ease the blossoming tension in her stomach. She'd been in his employ for over a year and half. She had no excuse to not be relaxed in his company, except that now she was a _tiny _bit uncomfortable at the prospect of being with him day in and day out for over a month. It was a heaven sent opportunity, but also a chance to ruin everything all in one go. Naru was tedious and testy and ever so easy to displease.

She might not have been so preoccupied if he hadn't picked up and left those months ago like she had meant nothing more to him than a paycheck twice a month to remember. Faced with the idea of him leaving forever, she'd wrestled each and every night when she was away from the office (where he was packing boxes to move home) with the idea of telling him how she felt.

The misery and the fear, and the 'what-if's driving her practically crazy.

Just that_ whole time_—ugh, what a disaster.

* * *

So there she was, in an airplane hurtling 985 km/hr through the sky across a continent simply because Naru had _asked_—nix that, he hadn't asked. Naru didn't know how to ask, which was yet one more thing to add to her list of things she had to teach him.

Mai twisted and turned distractedly in her cushioned and comfortable seat that could have fit two of her comfortably. The plane's cabin was chilly enough to require a blanket since her black tights weren't providing much warmth under her skirt and boots.

Twisting her lucky keychain in one hand, she absently flipped through the pages of a book her teacher had given her right before school had ended. Unfortunately (or fortunately in the case of the academic book), everything was failing to hold her attention for very long. Her mind was a whirlwind mixed and muddled in too many roiling emotions and buzzing thoughts to even try to focus on the equations and language structure lining the cheap pulp pages. She closed the book with a sharp snap and tucked it back into her satchel. She shoved the bag gently under the seat in front of her to stow it away.

Next to her, a plump and taciturn woman sat, taking up the entire seat and perhaps part of Mai's, not that Mai was averse to sharing…

Sitting alone wasn't much of a problem for her. Mai appreciated solitude as much as the next person. She'd largely grown up in it. She was situated in Business class, which had cost a pretty penny that Naru had fronted through the company, while Lin and Naru were in first class. She had tons of legroom, an unnecessary swiveling book light (unnecessary because the plane was flying west toward the setting sun), and a list of other useless gadgets. Her favorite part though was that her seat _almost _fully reclined back_. _Which made it pretty darn comfy. Mai would have to thank S.P.R. for paying for her flight here, even if she was going to be one of their guinea pigs for the next month.

She had the aisle seat, which was okay by her, though she would have preferred the window to watch the clouds and ground far below pass under her like an ever-changing carrousel. Mai leaned against the armrest and contemplated what Naru and Lin were up to in first class. Leaning over further, she hung out into the aisle to glance up the remaining four rows. Nothing. She could only see blue, gauzy fabric that had been drawn between them as a curtain to separate the different classes of customers. Mai bitterly thought that class separation should have died with the Titanic.

Feminine laughter drew Mai's attention to the row on her right. An older Caucasian couple, probably in their late 50s from the beginnings of white and gray hair Mai noticed sprouting on their heads, were whispering excitedly into each other's ears and laughing delightfully. The woman's wrinkled, but pretty face was set in a permanent smile, the corner of her lips being tugged in either direction as she tried to quiet her laughter. The man shared much the same expression on a pleasantly plump face and pulled at the edge of his short mustache with his fingers, flipping the tips of his facial hair up into a tight handlebar curl. The woman giggled all the harder as he looked side to side in a rigid, mechanical fashion, like a noble acknowledging the little people.

Mai tucked her chin into her shoulder to hide her own smile as a warm feeling lit in her chest. She glanced coyly back at the couple and decided that although they probably were really enjoying each other's company, the Bloody Mary's and the small, _empty, _travel-sized vodka bottle probably had contributed to their merriment. Only having turned 18 as of minuscule two weeks ago, Mai would now be legal to drink in the U.K. and on an international flight to said country, she _could _have a drink or two if she wanted to. Maybe she would, after all, she'd never had vodka before.

Ridding herself of the errant and dangerous thought, Mai took the small headphones the airplane company had given her as a business class customer, and set them over her ears to give the older company a little more privacy, and provide herself some solitude. The couple had been touching in small brushes, a light hand running along the other's, and had even kissed briefly. It had been the kiss that had burst the happy bubble in Mai's chest and had accidentally lit her cheeks and the tips of her ears on fire in embarrassment for having witnessed such an intimate moment. She wasn't used to such open display of affection. The age-old cultural norms in Japan maintained that such behavior was something to be saved for more private places—even though her generation was doing their damndest to take chisel and hammer against the walls of cultural normalcy. Or maybe a sledgehammer was a more suitable analogy.

Michiru had been dating a boy for six months throughout their last school year and sometimes would plant a generous lip-lock on her boyfriend when she thought no one was looking. Michiru described it as a secret, adrenaline-rush of a game, but to Mai, who for most of her life had been boyfriend-less (Toshiro from third grade absolutely did not count—they had been 'married,' not dating anyhow), it was a big deal…

…which made her think of Naru. Naru and his magnificently formed mouth, which was more likely to verbally castigate you long before it would bestow you that elusive kiss. Two years of Mai's life could attest to that. Mai had long imagined what it would feel like to delicately lay her lips against her boss' and wondered just how many others had looked at Naru and thought of him in much the same way. Naru who was irresistible, appealing and emotionally repulsive all at once. He was far too beautiful to go unnoticed by either gender, even if it inspired a sort of lust-driven admiration among women for him and envy among men for the most part.

It was a fine line of indifference that Naru walked everyday where people were constantly enamored by his divine looks only to be so evidently conflicted with his less-than-sunny disposition. They were left reeling from the dichotomy between the two, and Mai didn't blame them. The difference between the two could inspire the harshest bout of whiplash.

Just standing next to him, Mai used to feel like she was invisible. Naru had an innate pull to him, a power over people that sucked them under like some sort of…well,_ tractor beam_. Mai had struggled to find a better word. Standing next to him often meant that people overlooked you, even despite the custom of greeting each person individually so as not to insult anyone.

For the most part, Mai didn't mind. She admittedly had been sucked under by Naru's magnetism just as thoroughly, if not more forcefully than others. That made her much more sympathetic to anyone meeting Naru for the first time.

The monitor in the headrest in front of her flickered to the map of the airplane's progress. Eight hours in and four more still to go before she would be safely landed at Heathrow International in London. A bout of turbulence jolted the plane and Mai heard the familiar ding of the seatbelt sign as it lit up above her head.

She could have been watching a movie, or listening to music, but it was the map that interested her. It told them where the plane currently was, how fast they were going, how high they were: an amazing 10,000 meters, and how far away they were from Japan. It was frightening and exhilarating all at once. Her stomach flipped as she thought about the month to come, an adventure in itself.

Bored again, Mai was sorely tempted to find Naru and see what he and Lin were up to, but she didn't want to go searching him out. He had come to see her about two hours into the flight under no false guise or pretense, other than he wanted to see how she was doing. As he'd drawn closer, walking down the aisle to her, Mai had watched as the people in her cabin twisted in their seats to watch him more closely, inevitably sucked under and drawn to him as per usual.

Mai was familiar with the experience, but it never ceased to amaze her. More than once, Mai wondered what it was about him that incurred such a reaction. Was it merely his appearance, or maybe the underlying aura of confidence he exuded? It wasn't a calm atmosphere that surrounded him like a political representative; quite the opposite, his was a turbulent and aching thing, but that only inspired the timeworn 'walking-wounded' allure of him. It instinctively triggered the need to nurture, Mai couldn't deny that. In his own way, Naru was as broken as the stereotypical bad boy that women could never resist the urge to 'fix.' Only he wasn't 'bad' and he didn't have the motorcycle or scars from bar fights. Maybe 'bad boy' was a poor comparison. Though, he definitely had the negative attitude down pat.

Mai had shifted uncomfortably at his incisive gaze, feeling like ants were crawling over her skin and nipping at her while he approached. The notion that he, someone that many people held in the highest respect, was seemingly taken and charmed by someone as simple as Mai, stirred a feeling of exhilaration in her that tingled all the way to her toes.

Caught in her thoughts, Mai leaned into the aisle again and almost had her head taken off by a passing flight attendant whisking by before he halted abruptly in front of her. He grinned down at her with a quirky smile that Mai awkwardly and hesitantly returned.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked with a laugh in his voice.

Mai paused, then smiled bashfully as a devious idea started to take hold of her. She eyed the aisle behind the attendant where first class was seated before she looked back to the attendant who was waiting patiently.

"Actually, if it isn't too much trouble…"

* * *

Falling asleep on an airplane during such a long flight had proven easier than Naru had previously thought, but because of the ease in which he'd slipped into sleep, he had a stiff neck and the corner of his book was soaked and bloated because it had fallen into his cup of water when he'd been asleep. He rubbed at the shorter hairs on the back of his neck in an attempt to ease the tension and reached his arms upward to stretch his frame, which proved easy enough with all the excess space he had in first class.

He squeezed the excess water from the pages onto an extra napkin and set the partially destroyed book aside, an expression of annoyance lining his face. At his side, Lin was deep asleep, but breathing lightly with an eye-mask covering his eyes to block out the light reflecting through the cabin. Naru rolled his eyes at the extremely feminine looking Lin who might have been able to pass for a woman at first glance if you noticed only the long sweep of front fringe hiding his eyes and skipped past the sharp line of his jaw and noticeable Adam's apple.

If not for his Chinese assistant's excessive height, Naru would have asked Lin to sit in Business and allowed Mai to sit with him because as much as he was loathe to admit it out loud, the tacit Naru would have preferred her upbeat, if sometimes overly chatty, company. He idly wondered just how bored she was right now, sitting in the same spot for over 10 hours with nothing more in her satchel than her wallet, cell phone and an academic book that Naru had encouraged her teacher to give her.

If first class had not been full, Naru would have bought Mai the upgraded ticket, but he had bought her ticket long after he had bought Lin's and his own. Naru doubted she minded much though, as he had bought her ticket and she had avoided a costly bill. She'd only complained about not being in first class once jokingly as she was tidying up his office with a feather duster. Naru had pondered her jeering comment and had quickly ended her objections with a sly remark of his own about sharing a seat. Mai had stuttered and pursed her lips in a startled manner before she'd took the proffered seat, and sat in his lap at the office with an impish grin splitting her face while swinging her legs with an almost childish glee (which, although it pleased him initially, it had also served as further distraction for the next week or so).

Naru glanced at the flight progress map and his frown turned deeper as he thought about his assistant and it occurred to him that she had yet to come see him. At two hours in, Naru had thought to check on Mai before he returned to his seat to make some headway on some material that Madoka had sent him in the mail a couple months ago.

But now, at _ten hours _in, Mai had yet to visit him, and the thought began to buzz around his head like an annoying mosquito. Mai, who could never resist the opportunity to barge into his office whenever it pleased her (even more so now that they were together—Naru refused to say dating).

To him, official titles were for the insecure and for those who needed to define what they had as if it were some sort of badge of acquisition for being able to tolerate another human being so long. Their relationship hadn't shifted all that much. They still did everything the same with the exception of the occasional touch or intimate moment (Naru was also averse to meeting her eyes for too long as that qualified as some sort soppy 'lover's gaze'). Those small changes, according to Naru, did not necessitate a label to announce to people what they were.

Unbuckling his seat belt, Naru stood stiffly as his muscles and joints tried to loosen themselves after hours of inactivity. The rest of first class had been sleeping as well except for a small girl who was reading her picture books next to the window. Pacing swiftly down the aisle and carefully skimming stray limbs of the sleeping patrons, Naru swept the blue, gauze curtain aside and let an attendant pass him (though she did so rather slowly and with a roaming eye). Naru fought the cocky grin that threatened to alight his lips as the effort would be wasted with no one to irritate with it.

At first, he didn't spot Mai in her assigned seat, but as he approached, he found her curled up, knees raised to her chest without difficulty and a sloppy grin on her face as if she had just fallen asleep.

He leaned against the seat in front of her, braced himself with his elbow and chuckled lightly which was becoming easier and easier to do with the more often he was around her. Mai's sunny aura was something nearly tangible, something you wanted to wrap yourself in and just bask lazily in the warm glow of it. Even Naru could only barely resist the urge, and it was only successful due to long hours of practiced restraint. This time, Naru didn't bother to hide the cocky grin as he thought about the young woman in front of him. He pressed a fingertip on the center of her forehead and pushed playfully to see if she would come out of her light sleep. Naru felt like a child who wanted his teacher's attention and wouldn't stop pulling at the hem of their shirt until he got his way.

The woman in the seat next to Mai who had a nose like a canine pug eyed him distastefully as he toyed with Mai, a puzzle-crossed serious look filled his face when Mai still didn't react to him. How could she possibly sleep that _soundly?_

Unfortunately for Naru, Mai was well and truly out as her head bobbed back and forth at his gentle touch and her tongue seemingly glued to the roof of her mouth as it protruded slightly from under her tiny teeth.

Naru surveyed the whole scenario and quickly deduced the problem: a translucent little bottle that would have fit in his palm with room to spare. A suspiciously empty, translucent bottle with a neat little red label reading _Vodka_ that sat tipped over on her tray table next to an equally empty cup and partially-full orange plastic container which he suspected was orange juice.

His assistant had been tippling on _screwdrivers_ discreetly in the middle cabin. Now that he was clued in, he did notice that she was looking a little flushed, which probably explained the tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and the fuzzy sleep she'd slumbered in.

Naru sighed loudly at the unexpected disappointment he felt and the plump pug-nosed woman watched him from the corner of her eye again as if he was someone suspicious while she fiddled nervously in her purse.

_Like the woman had really forgotten someone as good-looking as him so quickly. _After all, she had seen him at the beginning of their flight, even if she had pretended to be looking out the window and not ogling him. He resisted the urge to snort, though he considered it briefly. He tilted his head curiously and looked to the other woman with a challenging hint in his eyes, watching her expectantly while she hastily looked out the window yet again to escape his steady, measured gaze.

Mai turned in her sleep, and made a small smacking noise which was most likely her tongue un-sticking from the roof of her mouth. She shifted and muttered again, promptly tossing off the edge of the blanket that had been barely hanging onto her. The dark edge of her deep purple shirt sank lower as the edge of it was stretched taut, caught between her and the seat. Admittedly, Naru was distracted by the exposed span of skin, but only minimally. The top of her diminutive chest was in full view at the whim of any passerby and unless he wanted this trip to start out less than successfully, he had better resolve the issue quickly.

Despite himself, Naru didn't mind it as much as he should have, which only made the imagined taunts of his brother more fully realized within his mind. He knew what Gene would say. Something immature, something suggestive, something annoying. In fact, he could have teased his brother with the memory and present it dangerously out of context to fluster his twin, but it seemed rather callous…and cruel as he knew his brother shared a fondess for the sunny Mai that tottered between a kind of student-teacher admiration and an active interest in the young woman.

Without taking a last look, (there would be plenty of time for that if he really wanted), he grabbed the top of her shirt between his finger and thumb, and hefted it upward quickly before he could be caught in such a potentially scandalous looking move.

Mai merely wrinkled her nose at him, and Naru was glad that he wouldn't have to cop to such an altruistic move. Then he would lose points for his hard-earned cold-hearted, bastard persona, and that wouldn't strike fear or productivity into his employees at all.

Just to make sure, he tugged her shirt back down, but only a little bit.

* * *

Quick AN: Updates will not come as quickly as the last story as I was on vacation when I wrote Aversion Theory.

Because the timeline of the original story has been shifted post-The Forgotten Children manga chapters (Naru leaves for five months in this story, not three [because I'm keeping their ages in check]) this will venture into slight AU because of that small change.

Lastly, I got antsy and wanted to post this, so it is completely unbeta-ed and very rough. I apologize and corrections will be made periodically, I guarantee it.


	2. Distance Between Intimacy and Irritation

**History of War**

Chapter 1: The Distance Between Intimacy and Irritation

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2.20.10

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Wars normally started with something small, something simple. They certainly didn't start as full-scale assaults with patrol units, grade-one artillery, air raids, mortars, and tanks.

Like most things, it all started relatively simple.

Normally someone wanted something. Land. Wealth. Commodities. People. Freedom. Devotion to faith. Any of which were considered justifiable to wage a war and demand that they be given it.

The opposition would then respectfully say something along the lines of 'go screw yourself.' Sometimes it was more polite. Other times it was more creative and colorful, but more or less, it was a refusal to give in.

That was how it went. There was a disagreement, then an attempt to resolve the disagreement, a falling out (if there already hadn't been one), a warning, then a preemptive strike, invasions, smaller battles and _then, finally, _full-throttle war.

Like many before them, Mai and Naru's war had started with simple words. At first, they had endured day-to-day skirmishes: an exchange of words here, a taunt there, but never outright insults. Mai thought that Naru would finally cede some metaphorical ground to her when he found Gene's body he had uttered those fateful, war-inciting words, "Are you sure it's not my brother you love, and not me?"

Naru could be such an ass sometimes. A common inheritance she worried his parents had passed on to him. After all, children imprinted on their parents, right? It made her trip all the more stressful.

So she made a decision. She'd confessed.

And he'd denied her.

Immediately, her heart felt heavy like it had stopped in her chest and the embarrassment and shame threatened to consume her whole. Blood fled her face leaving her pale and lightheaded as her lungs seized, fighting to remember how to breathe again. She wanted nothing more than to take everything back like she could swallow the painful admission back down like sour bile if only to spare him the flicker of brief pain she'd witnessed on his face.

Seeing the slip of pain had been the only glimpse into his soul, she'd ever experienced. Mai felt the distinct urge to walk off the dock they were standing on. Not to drown, but just to slip under the water and disappear from his sight.

She tried to understand what he'd meant by the words. She had done her best to pretend that nothing had happened—go about her normal business: filing, answering phones, denying enough people interviews that she finally just disconnected the line. Those last two weeks with him at the office before he left had been the most emotionally straining of her life. Mai would happily volunteer to take on violent ghosts every day for the next month if someone would promise her that she would never have to feel that miserable again.

Then, he simply left, and while she asked for his address, she never worked up the courage to sit down and write him for five months. It was always one thing or another. Once, she'd make an excuse to herself that she had errands to run instead (lying to herself only worked so many times) and the next time when she actually managed to sit down in front of the letterhead, she couldn't put the pen to the paper. In her head, she was faced with a giant question mark.

Maybe she was just being harsh, and irrational in her thoughts. She didn't truly believe that Naru really saw her as nothing to him, but it was hard not to berate and diminish yourself when he had left so effortlessly. Mai was left to agonize over what it meant to her—how immensely it would change her life (life after Naru hadn't been imaginable before then). After such a dismissal, it was hard not to question her worth. What had she done wrong? Was she annoying? Did she count as a woman, or did he see her as a child? _Was she such a forgettable person?_ After finally finding Gene's body, (which had been as difficult and cruel as it was relieving for Mai), a weight should have lifted from Naru's mind, right? Had his relief been so all-consuming that he had easily forgotten about her? Not that she could hold it against him for feeling that way.

He left. That was all that mattered.

It proved to be only a temporary ceasefire in their war. One that was fragile and never meant to last.

What did you say to the boy you loved so thoroughly but was convinced you loved someone else? _His brother… to make matters worse._

Naru—genius ghost hunter who had PhD before he was 17.

Unmatched in wit and clever repartee.

Also as dense as a rock sometimes.

Trying to brainstorm ideas for the letter to Naru proved to be frustratingly difficult. Mai couldn't think of anything more than 'how are you?' and that was just as unoriginal and clichéd than 'how's the weather?' It would have all been empty words that wouldn't absolve any of her bitter heartache.

So life had simply gone on with a stagnant pulse bordering on entropy. Mai studied, went to school, ate, slept and occasionally volunteered for a case or two with Madoka, who ran S.P.R. in Naru's absence. It wasn't the same, but Mai wasn't naïve enough to expect it to be.

Then he'd come back to Japan _months_ later to wreak further havoc in her life, sending shockwaves rippling into her already shaking stability. _Havoc _was not a word to be taken lightly._ As if he hadn't already done enough.._. He probably had no idea what he was doing to her.

She had finally been learning how to readjust to normality. Less ghosts, no hauntings, no dreams, no injuries, no psychic activity, no havoc. Her test scores had gone up since she rarely missed school anymore. Heaven forbid, when boys were actually starting to notice her, Naru just had to reappear in her life. Boys liked her. Michiru and Yuuki insisted that boys thought she was cute. Naru's return, consequently, had sealed her dating prospects away more firmly than if she'd declared her self a nun.

Not only was she emotionally unavailable, the boys had been chased off in one resounding sweep when Naru had shown up to school for a "follow-up" with her principal. He smiled that secretive and evil smile she was so familiar with and infuriated by as he passed her down the hallway. She leaned back against the locker hoping to blend in with all the other girls, but he tracked her like a bloodhound and parted the pack of girls as easily as a curtain. The look he gave her might have been enough. Amused with devilish half-quirk of lips and a sultry toss of fringe hiding dark blue eyes, he told her not to be late that afternoon.

Mai tried to play dumb and look around at the other girls like he had been speaking to them (they might not be fooled, but perhaps the rest of the hallway hadn't seen the exchange), but it backfired when he was walking away and casually tossed over his shoulder, "Oh, and Mai, Don't forget to bring a jacket."

He said her name, her first name—and so casually. She was doomed.

It sounded like he had reminded her about a date they had, rather than work—or to bring a jacket because the heater was broken in the office. Regrettably, he had said it in front of all the boy prospects _and even worse, he said it in front of the school's reigning gossip queen:_ her best friend Yuuki, who didn't possess any form of discretion or an inkling of honor among friends. The news hit the school like wildfire: Taniyama from class three had been propositioned by a handsome transfer student during break. Neither of which were true. Naru wasn't a transfer student and he hadn't propositioned her. He told her to get to work on time. Nowhere near as romantic.

She'd handed him the metaphorical key to her dating life attached to a frilly-laced note that said 'Here, please ruin me for everyone else for the rest of my life,' signed one Taniyama Mai with a flourish.

Even in her imagination, she was polite. _Pathetic._

Upon his re-arrival, she'd fought against him viciously, unwilling to slip so easily under his spell again. The two had avoided talking or even looking at each other for weeks at a time. In a fit of spitefulness, she'd hidden some of his notes and his office keys after he'd called Michiru 'about as bright as an ape' when the girl had visited Mai. In retaliation, he'd locked her cell phone into her desk drawer when she'd gone to lunch. So she double-booked his clients on more than one occasion and had to deal with the fallout of having two clients walk in the door at the same time. She replaced his interview files with pictures of half-naked men fitted into neon hot pants and patterned leg warmers. Mai had learned her lesson with that one when Naru had told her to keep her personal belongings out of the office and the elder gentlemen had pinned Mai with a disgusted look. Embarrassing.

Weeks after, when she thought he would have let it all drop, he sent her to the file storage facility at the opposite end of town after an already straining workday. The trains had stopped working due to snowdrifts and she had to spend an entire day's wages on a taxicab ride home to get all the way across the city. And that was after she had been forced to wait out in the cold for a half hour. Ironically, Naru had caught the same cold she consequently had come down with. _Karma._

It had become tactical warfare in the office of Shibuya Psychic Research and neither was willing to back down.

_The pinnacle of their war was him actually kicked her off a case_ (maybe justifiably), and then finally, Mai had _quit_, unable to bear it anymore with the pressure building to a boiling point for the last few months.

Naru, threatened with the possibility of never seeing his more charming assistant again, (and not being able to figure out how to use her insane filing system, he tried to rationalize) had been forced into action.

He told her to come to London _with_ him (asking was against his M.O., after all).*

Mai, of course, turned him down (a spitefully fair turn of events in her mind after his rejection)…

…until he badgered and coerced her to join him (in the most dirty, convincing and _provocative_ fashion—he could have just stood there, looked pretty and Mai might have been convinced by that in itself, but no, he didn't just leave it at that—not that Mai was complaining…much).

* * *

Mai was dead on her feet. The front of her shoes were scuffed because she could barely lift her feet enough to drag them. The bags under eyes felt like they were swelling to the size of small eggs. Her hair was oily. She'd forgotten her gloves, which meant her fingers were numb and barely functional in the low degree Celsius weather. The clammy layer of heat that had stuck to her after she'd woken up on the airplane only amplified the cold wind blustering over her. She could barely hang on to her suitcase handle as they walked between terminals and out of customs, which had taken an enormous amount of time because Mai didn't know the address they were staying at as Naru hadn't though to share it _before they got to the clerk._

She felt noticeably lighter when Naru snatched her satchel off her with a quick hand and tossed it over his shoulder before she could muster a disapproving look, even if she was grateful. At this point, while they waited for a taxi, she might have welcomed him tossing her over his shoulder just so that she could get off of her feet. They were achy and sore and she was irritable and just wanted a leash to string Naru and Lin by so that they wouldn't walk so damn fast.

Not everyone had the lengthy stride of a baby giraffe when they walked. Damn it.

It was 16:00 local time, but one in the morning back home. Mai wanted sleep. Now.

She swayed on her feet again as they stood by the curb and watched the cars fly by the front of the terminal, intermittently loading luggage and people. Giving up, Mai finally steadied herself by leaning against Naru, his personal space and aversion to touch be damned. Naru, who was busy trying to flag down a cab, feigned indifference well, but Mai didn't miss the slight tension in his back and the sudden craning of his neck away from her. Briefly, Mai felt a gust of wind flutter in the small distance between them as Naru withdrew slightly, and Mai would have said _shyly_ if she wasn't applying it to the idiot scientist himself.

Achingly slow, he had started to make progress in their relationship, such as greeting her when she walked through the door (sometimes), or telling her to leave at the actual end of her shift (and then letting her stay longer than necessary because it secretly pleased them both). Though sometimes, Mai thought sluggishly, it was a tender toss-up if that progress was forward or backward. He steadfastly refused to hold her hand, or even take her out to dinner, or come by her apartment yet, but on the rare occasion when Mai would smile brilliantly in a manner reminiscent of Madoka, the original master of manipulation and coercion, he would let her tuck her arm through his as they walked to the occasional lunch. It was progress, no matter how infinitesimal.

He wouldn't ever let her make him lunch, but twice now he had brought her breakfast in the morning. Anything that might label them as together in front of others was strictly off-limits. Sure, Mai had returned to work for him in the end, but the only difference between before she quit and after she came back was that he had yet to give her the same tongue lashings like he used to. He'd gotten irritated and reprimanded her once or twice (the equivalent of a pat on the cheek compared to the expected jaw-clacking left hook), but had yet to raise his voice. Mai wondered silently to herself that maybe since she had shown the ability to walk away from him even knowing the costs, he had become more aware of the importance she carried in his life.

But to not let her lean against him when she was so clearly exhausted and not just looking for that extra intimate inch…well, to say the least, it was irking her. Mai silently promised to break him of the habit soon enough.

Enviously, Mai admired the soft tufts of charcoal black hair flutter in the breeze when Mai felt a tentative touch at her side. A gentle askance. The smallest curl of his fingers on her back and wakefulness started to hum at the edge of her mind. One simple touch and Mai felt almost reinvigorated, most likely because her blood flow had increased dramatically due to her heart double-timing the pace.

At last, a taxi pulled in front of them and the touch became short-lived much to her dismay, but she was still all the more happy to get off her feet and out of the cold. Naru lifted the first suitcase in and Lin finished the rest as Mai climbed into the back seat.

Naru made for the front door out of habit before he heard a soft 'ahem' from his tall assistant, a silent comment to where he should be sitting; namely, in the backseat with Mai. Naru clicked open the front door and held it open for Lin whose quiet grin belied his mirth.

Naru slid in the back and watched Mai's half-lidded eyes struggle to stay open on the other side of the cab. They rumbled off and sat in silence as Mai fought against sleep. Her head lolled precariously twice before she shook herself and patted her cheeks.

Looking out the window, she noted the houses, some of them built in brick, others in wood, but all with pipes poking out from the rooftops. Chimneys.

Turning to Naru, she said, "London's…_smaller_ than I thought it would be. Where's the metropolitan area?"

Naru had a secret smile on his face, delighting in the way that Mai always carefully weighed and chose her words so as not to offend anyone. Not that he cared, or that the cab driver could even understand what she was saying given the language she was speaking in.

He tilted his head to her, speaking in a hushed tone almost as if they were sharing a secret. "We're in Zone 6, the outer edges of London. You'll start to see more of the city in about half an hour. Actually less than that. I haven't been here in awhile."

He seemed as uninterested in the buildings as she was interested. While she studied the buildings and saw how different the cars looked, more rounded than the angular cars in Japan, Naru spent more time sliding sly glances at her and enjoying the minute reactions she had every time she noticed something different.

She was a multitude of expressions. One hand rested against the doorframe, excitedly gripping at the handle at each discovery. Delicate eyebrows shifted higher between excitement and reverence as she watched the sky like she didn't have the same kind back home. A flock of geese flew overhead and she tracked them with her eyes from her side of the car, until they disappeared above the roof and onto Naru's side. She leaned over, paused to measure the distance between her and Naru subconsciously before straining to see the birds glide effortlessly in a misshapen 'v' shape.

"It's beautiful," she announced louder than it was necessary due to their close distance. He leaned closer, tripping Mai up, sending her heart into overdrive. Her pulse jumped when he narrowed his in an assessing manner. Coolly, he put two fingers against her bared collarbone and shoved her lightly back into her seat with a thump. She might have been mad had she not seen the almost hidden look of contentment in his face. He disguised it well, but not enough to keep it out of Mai's intuitive reach.

"It is," he agreed, deceptively solemn, but Mai knew he was happy to be home. The tension and stiff spine he normally carried had evaporated once they had landed. The lax in his guard was more because of his own weariness from the trip than pleasure from being home. Japan, while maybe his native country was not what Naru considered home. He hadn't grown up there, hadn't lit his first Bunsen burner there, hadn't gone to school there, hadn't hunted his first ghost there and had never shared a home with Gene there.

_This was his home,_ Mai thought somberly. She would do her best to take it all in and see exactly how this place had shaped Naru to be the person he was now. It would certainly explain all the cultural differences she noticed in the smallest of his behaviors. Things she hadn't given much thought to before she'd found out his real name. Like why he preferred publications in English instead of Japanese, why he knew about the matsuri, Japanese festivals, but didn't know that there were several separate ones, and not purely one national event. And it explained why he had steadfastly refused to wear traditional Japanese garb when the festivals came around. Mai guessed that he probably didn't know how to tie everything on and was too stubborn to ask for help. Not that Naru bothered to celebrate much anyhow.

Mai watched the patchy clouds on the horizon.

"Clouds," Naru said, reading her face easily. "It rains here a lot."

"Get out of my head," she said, grinning. Shifting gears, she continued, "I thought you said your parents lived in the countryside. Cambridge, you said?"

Naru nodded. "They do live outside of London, but Cambridge is on the opposite side of London from Heathrow."

The window was cold against Mai's forehead. "Oh, how long will it take to get there?"

"We're not heading out to my parents tonight." Mai perked at that comment, turning to face him.

"We're staying in the city tonight," she guessed.

"We're staying in the city the entire time we're here," he corrected.

She frowned, but prodded at him to continue. "What do you mean? I thought we were staying with your parents." From the front of the taxi, Lin actually laughed, startling Mai into widened eyes. Stiffly, she eyed Naru with a vague wariness. Naru shook his head as if imagining the scenario at his parents. Mai wondered what he was thinking that could turn so disastrous.

He made a muffled noise behind his fist that he was resting his chin against. He stared out the window, avoiding her deliberately. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" she asked, half-turned towards him.

"Because I'm not insane." Mai couldn't help the smile creeping onto her lips at Naru who wasn't normally so dramatic.

She turned one of his favorite phrases back on him. "That's debatable."

Naru paused in his thoughts, taking a moment to acknowledge that Mai was beginning to mimic some things he did, such as his turn of phrases, which was often a precursor to—if not symptom of—a relationship. The thought was sobering, and striking all at once. Firstly because she did it without a thought, and secondly, because he realized he was likening a relationship to a feral disease—with symptoms and the like—which didn't reflect well on his state of mind in regards to such intimacies.

He'd told her that he wasn't the most emotionally available man, but that had done nothing to deter her, and looking down at her sappy grin, the way she wrinkled her nose in a mockery of mischief and how her eyes lit when he turned his gaze towards hers, he realized how easily he had fallen into her trap… and the realistic, cynical part of him started trying to dissect it—which inevitably would destroy the fragile relationship they had built.

_How long could this possible last?_ Normally, his insults were of the self-deprecating variety about the capacity to love he lacked, but today it was aimed at Mai. _Half the time, the girl can't tell her left foot from her right. Why are you wasting your time with something that won't work—something that isn't working? _

Naru immediately quelled the thoughts, closing his eyes as if it could shut the feelings away. He knew how to compartmentalize and easily identified that even he, a reputed PK-using legend, possessed fears and insecurities. They were just materializing at the closest target to which he spent more time agonizing over more than any other mystery he tried to unravel; specifically, Mai.

Mai alone wasn't much of a mystery. In fact, she was achingly simple. Resilient, scrappy and determined, Mai had mastered the other side of human nature that Naru struggled with. Qualities he knew other S.P.R. members envied and loved her for. The human aspect. Academically, they were on opposite spectrums. Intelligence-wise, he had her by years and probably always would. Mai had other strengths that he begrudgingly respected. He was smart enough for the both of them. She hadn't even entered college, let alone expressed too much of an interest and he was a post-graduate with a PhD. He looked at everything like it was an equation, like everything had a neat equal sign attached to it with only one possibility.

People were innately simple. It was Naru who was the anomaly, the problem. People smiled because they were happy. They ate because they needed energy or their organs would fail. Some days more than others Naru understood people's craving for certain desires. And Mai more than others was a creature of wants and needs. Like her fascination with cooking unagi and onigiri together. Simple desires that he felt no matter how he tried would ever be able to fulfill. He was ill-prepared for things concerning relationships and the like.

Naru must have been pondering all these thoughts for too long because the playful look on Mai's face slipped into worry and curiosity. "Naru," she tested, some worry he couldn't identify lining her voice. "Hey," she said softly, pulling at his ear lobe.

He almost knocked her hand off from reflex, as merely months ago he would have done, but he reined the reaction in. Gently, curling his fingers around hers he removed her hand and set it back in her lap.

"Come back down to Earth," she said, searching his face for some clue to what he was thinking. A litany of thoughts stretched across his face that she strained to comprehend. All too quickly he tucked them away under a smoothed-over, placid look.

She broke into a wavering grin, acknowledging that he wanted to be left to his own thoughts and an attempt to lighten his dour mood. "You know, I hear it's illegal to be drunk while in possession of a cow here," she said in contrived seriousness while staring at the headrest in front of her intently. She failed miserably when the corners of her mouth started to twitch, giving her away.

Playing along only because it would please her fickle nature, he said, "Actually, that's only in Scotland."

"Really?" she said, suddenly serious and turning abruptly to face him. "Where's Scotland exactly?" she added, "The kilt-wearing people?" She made exaggerated sweeps of motion down her legs to imitate the country's traditional wear. He nodded, and _almost _laughed.

He shrugged, "Well, I've heard it before, but I'm not really sure if that law's true or not. Scotland's north of us about five hours by train. How did you hear about that?"

Mai scratched the tip of her nose, hemming politely. "Saw it when I was researching," she coughed embarrassedly.

The chatter died soon after as Mai fell asleep halfway into a sentence leaned up against the cool plane of the window. Naru considered the upcoming days with a wary kind of recognition. Naru had neglected to tell Mai the various details surrounding her impending visit to the original S.P.R., the Society for Psychic Research. Mostly, he had avoided telling her because he was interested to see how she would react to the place and its inhabitants. He wanted to see how she took to meeting his and Gene's parents whom she had only heard the voices of over the phone.

Though admittedly, Naru was more curious about how they would take to his assistant, so charming that she'd weasled her way into their solemn, frigid son's heart.

* * *

The apartment wasn't much larger than their office back in Japan. Luckily (or planned), there were three bedrooms and one common room attached to the sparsely stocked kitchen. Uncharacteristically, Mai didn't bother arguing over who got which room. She collapsed onto the couch with a fatigued groan, burying herself into the pillows as soon as they had entered.

Without a word, Naru and Lin had disappeared into the vacant rooms lugging their baggage on their shoulders. In the following silence, Mai snuggled deeper into the cushions and tried to absorb the reality of being in London. Exhaustion outweighed other warring emotions.

Warmth and sleep tingled along her skin pleasantly lulling her into gray unconsciousness until she was abruptly jarred awake by someone sitting on the end of the couch—on top of her feet. Mai whimpered piteously into the cushions and rolled over slowly to watch Naru through dark eyes reflecting the sparse moonlight brightly.

"Hm," she prompted, pushing at his leg with her feet. He pinched her calf to halt the motions. "What, Naru?" she yawned at him, stretching her arms in up in a good impression of a scarecrow.

Dark hair fluttered over his eyes as he exhaled. "There is a perfectly suitable bed about five meters in front of you."

"I'm too tired. Carry me there," she challenged archly.

He gave her a droll look. "Maybe if I hadn't just seen you wolf down your sandwich and then mine…"

Mai stiffened, yawning again and curling her feet under. "Are you trying to pick a fight?"

"Is that a rhetorical question, or should I assume you don't know the meaning of the word?"

Scowling, Mai growled, "And on that charming note…"

Standing, she almost made it around the couch before she felt a snag on the backside of her blouse. Teetering backwards, her center of gravity faltered and she landed hard half in Naru's lap, half against the armrest. Mai braced an arm next to his head caving in the cushion and tried to right herself. Naru was by no means the most amorous boyfriend, so Mai knew the tug and subsequent fall was unintentional. He was out-and-out sensual in his own right, but rarely so blatantly.

Knowing he had tugged too hard on accident, Mai swallowed hard at the perceived small amount of space between them. Naru inhaled briskly and looked up at her with slightly widened nocturnal blue eyes that looked all the darker in midnight lit room. She felt electricity in her head, the buzz of distraction building as she steadied over him.

Mai balanced precariously, intrigued, but waiting patiently for him.

Naru didn't have to crane his head up far to meet her eyes due to her lack of height. Tightening his grip on her shirt, his eyes flickered to the right peering down the hall before he met her eyes again with a teasing tint to them, assessing the chances that his so-called guardian would interrupt. Mai's anger dissolved visibly when he tugged her closer. Inches between them and Mai felt like her very atoms were trying to rend themselves apart from the excitement she felt. An enticing smile lit her pink lips, prodding him closer.

He tilted his head to accommodate her and when she felt the barest whisper of his lips against hers, she hummed pleasantly, the tension she hadn't felt in her muscles rolling out like the tide. At her enthusiastic murmur of approval, Naru's lips parted slightly with satisfaction at her vigor. They weren't very practiced, but Mai was an avid learner and there seemed to be nothing that Naru wasn't good at when he applied himself.

She had just started to enjoy herself when the electricity she felt before started buzzing noisily in her ears sounding like static until it reached its peak, a sharp pain shot into her stomach. She shrunk away painfully cringing like she'd swallowed dry ice. Mai gasped and tensed, breaking from Naru with a wrench that landed her on the ground flat on her back.

The solid floor didn't give against her weight. Bouncing mercilessly, Mai sucked in two quick breaths while she stayed prone on her back, counting her heartbeats. Heart thudding in her chest, Mai ran a quick check over her almost numb limbs to make sure they were still attached. She stared up at the ceiling, re-acclimating when Naru filled her vision standing over her.

"…that was new," Mai said breathily, cheeks flushed.

The stern set in Naru's face meant he was back in scientific inquiry mode and not the least bit seemingly concerned with her welfare. She sighed miserably further drawing his attention. Her somewhat boyfriend didn't have an 'off' switch.

"So that hasn't happened before," he said deceptively innocent like he hadn't just played a part in that.

"I just said that," she told him rigidly. Naru raised an eyebrow, and Mai had to admit that she no longer had the rest of S.P.R. convinced that she wasn't someone who always knew more than she let on. "No, Naru, it hasn't happened before. You're the psychic expert—sorry, psychic researcher. You tell me what that was," she mumbled.

"Hm," was all he said.

"'Hmmm' doesn't qualify an answer," she huffed. Naru bestowed her a rare smile obviously tempting her into trying to uselessly pry the information out of him. Looking away from him, she scowled and tried to keep up the angry demeanor as difficult as it was in her unruly sprawl on the floor. Mai wondered how heavy of a sleep Lin had to be in not to come out and inspect the loud ruckus involved in Mai's fall.

Abruptly, Naru kneeled down by her and gripped her hand startling Mai as he had never shown the foresight to comfort her in the smallest manner. "I'm okay," she said a little staggered by the gesture. Trading her his own confused expression, he looked back down to her hand like it was the offending limb that had caused the shock.

"Wait—what are you doing?" She said accusingly.

His eyebrows tightened, quizzical. Almost timidly, he said, "Trying to see if it will happen again."

"You're trying to shock us again?" Naru wisely stayed silent. "You didn't feel that shock…" she hissed. "You're trying to shock me again!" She let out a tiny shriek, and shook her hand out of his. Standing and slightly unbalanced, Mai stayed well out of his reach.

"Goodnight, jerk." She stomped off down the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her, realizing belatedly that she had left her suitcases out in the main room that had her pajamas. It turned out that she would end up going to bed angry after all and she really didn't care if she had her nightclothes to sleep in as much as she wanted them. It would defeat the point of stalking off heatedly if she had to go back out.

A knock at her door echoed in the room. Mai didn't say anything.

"Your bags," the arrogant boss said simply, but she could tell he was still amused.

She jerked the door open and pulled her bags inside awkwardly as it was hard to balance the weight of the bags and squeeze them through the spitefully small crack in the open door. "Stuff it," she ground out and went to bed, hearing his amiable chuckle all the way down the hall.

* * *

AN: Admittedly, this is going to get a bit more difficult from here on. Mai understands English, speaks it decently, but in a normal conversation she most likely wouldn't be able to keep up. In the coming chapters, I'll explain how I'm distinguishing conversation spoken in English and conversation in Japanese.

Bear with me, as it isn't very realistic that people at the research center will all speak English, nor will Mai be able to keep up that easily. So there will be a lot of exposition in how they are translating for Mai. I'll try to make it as painless as possible.


	3. Oddity

**History of War**

_Chapter 2: Oddity_

* * *

3.9.10

* * *

AN: Okay, a tad more exposition...but I had to get a chapter out, I was feeling guilty for stalling. Enjoy.

Note: Bold in Parentheses indicate "**dialogue spoken in English**_." _If it is in regular font in parentheses, then it is Japanese, as Mai and the others normally speak. Words italicized are regular emphasis. (Edit: 3/27/10)

* * *

Breakfast was a dismal and disappointing affair. There was no rice, no congee, no vegetables, only a scant six eggs, a head of brown lettuce and a cabinet full of condiments. If zombies attacked and they had to lock themselves into their apartment, they would have enough mustard and weird brown sauce to last them weeks. Maybe Lin and Naru were watching their weight. How else did they keep in such svelte form and yet never leave the office?

Hesitantly, Mai glanced down at her middle, flat but un-muscled, soft. She held out her arms for inspection. They were thin and gawky, but respectable. Lin lounged in the living room, a mug of coffee steaming on the table and a newspaper in hand. The domesticity in this never seen habit was oddly endearing, but made Mai feel intrusive and partly awkward. Rubbing her eyes, Mai took a deep breath, feeling suddenly light-headed and a little nauseous. She banked it on the stress of being in a foreign country, but also on the fact that she was going to be a very prestigious research facility's guinea pig for the next month. Unquestionably, that had to be it. Inhaling through her nose again, she swallowed the feeling.

Feigning normalcy, she clanged pots and pans around the kitchen, searching for a skillet to cook the eggs in.

Naru was nowhere to be seen, but Mai could hear the shower running down the hall in the main bedroom. Blushing at her wandering mind, Mai tapped her head twice and tried to distract herself around the kitchen. The eggs she cooked were bland and tasteless without vegetables and rice to accompany them. Mai slipped her phone out of her back pocket and tapped at the screen despondently. Another error message popped up, one after the other. Something was wrong with it. That meant that she wouldn't be able to email Bou-san who she promised repeatedly before she left that she would send him an email the instant she got there and keep him posted on anything that happened. She failed miserably last night when she had gotten too riled up by Naru. So really it was Naru's fault. Bou-san was going to have kittens, as Gene would say.

Naru emerged from the room dressed to perfection and Mai mourned the fact that even at home he was so measured in everything he did. She wished for sock-less feet, an un-tucked shirt and maybe a little hastily-skewed hair, damp from being freshly washed, but no such luck. Mai pouted internally and emptied the rest of her plate in one gigantic gulp she struggled to swallow down.

Naru breezed by her, bringing in the sharp smell of soap and…was that aftershave? Mai smiled secretively to herself. She knew that Naru had to shave every morning to be that immaculate and beardless every morning, but now she held one more secret to herself, a personal little bit that he normally wouldn't have shared in another situation.

Mai chewed on a nail, absent-minded and happy. Her hand was abruptly batted away from her mouth and she gaped open-mouthed at Naru who joined her at the table with Lin.

She gave him a dark look, but returned to fidgeting with her phone. It still wasn't working. Mai grumbled forlornly to herself, sighing loudly.

Lin and Naru exchanged looks before looking back to her.

"What?" Mai grumped harshly, noticing them both eying her. The two men looked back at each other.

Naru's eyes flicked quickly to Mai and then back to Lin.

"I think she's trying to communicate with us," Naru said in a low voice.

Lin shook his head despairingly, eyes closed. "Girl-speak is a rather elusive language."

Mai gaped at them. Was this—were they..._joking?_

Startling them both, and making them think maybe she really _had_ gone crazy, Mai jumped up from the table and ran to the window behind the couch, plastering herself against it in order to get a good look outside. She strained her neck to see in all directions, but found nothing. The sky was blue and the cars below weren't even stuck in traffic.

Unable to restrain his curiosity, Naru feeling suspicious, asked, "_What are you doing_?"

Mai looked back at him over her shoulder with a markedly drawn expression. "Trying to see if the world's ending," she replied, both serious and a little breathy sounding. "It's just—I mean, you two are actually making jokes. It caught me off-guard and made me worry and—" An idea seemed to light up in her mind. Stalking back to the table, she plopped back into her seat and her fingers seem to fly over her phone, they were moving so fast. "—and oh my gosh, _I have to tell everyone." _Her wicked grin faded quickly into disappointment and she puckered her lips, pouting. "I don't get it! Why isn't my phone working? Of all times!"

"You didn't unlock it internationally."

"I'm going to assume you meant to say that in the form of a question so as not to be so rude. So no I didn't unlock it, I think. What does that even mean?"

"You notify your cellular provider that you are leaving the country. It allows you to use it abroad. Handy when traveling in other countries." He brandished his phone, suitably pleased with himself.

Mai wrinkled her nose distastefully. "You might have mentioned that." She crossed her arms when he said nothing. "Well, can I borrow your phone?"

"No."

"You didn't even ask why I needed it!"

Naru raised an eyebrow. He paused as if rethinking it and then perked the corner of his mouth. "I don't care. No."

Without bothering to segue, he continued, "Will you be ready to go soon?"

Mai's brows pinched. "Ready to do what? Go where?"

"To S.P.R," he said simply.

"Now—today? I thought—can't I at least see the city first?" she rambled nervously.

"They're expecting you today. This isn't a vacation."

Mai glared at him until he looked up at her at last. One brow lifted in question. Barely reining in her temper, she fumed, "I promised to come to London because _you asked me."_ She took a deep breath. "I came here because _you_ promised there would be training and because you wanted me to. Your words, not mine. I did not travel across a continent to waste away as a lab rat, and not see the world. I _will_ go out and be touristy and _you_ are going to take me, and put up with whatever I ask because _I promise you,_ you'll regret the minute you decide to lock me up here or in some cement block cell of a lab." Mai sucked in another deep breath, short of air from her longwinded rant. Grabbing her plate, she marched into the kitchen, and debated putting the dish into the dishwasher or washing it in the sink. Aggravated, but still not able to full overcome the urge to wash the dish, she set it in the sink and pried herself away from the kitchen.

As she walked down the hall, Naru called after her, "Fifteen minutes," which was followed by her strangled yell. Naru snorted, and tipped another starch sip of coffee down his throat.

* * *

They called a taxi service much to Mai's chagrin. She wanted to take the Underground, London's transit system, just once, but Naru and Lin had ignored her like she hadn't said anything at all after she suggested it. Tucked between the two men in the backseat, Mai did her best not to fidget as much as possible. Even with her legs squeezed tightly together, both men were touching her hip-to-knee. Mai wished that she'd chosen jeans today instead of her knee-length skirt that had ridden up on her hasty entrance into the taxi. She tried not to draw too much attention to herself when she delicately pulled the edge downward.

Thankfully, the drive was mercifully short. She hopped out, carefully swiveling out so as not to flash (as she had done it before) and surveyed the cement building towering over her. It looked old, though the design of it wasn't so aged. Out front, the bottom floor was a long line glass allowing passersby a look into the seemingly regular and boring building. The sidewalks were filled with milling businessmen and women in long coats and heeled shoes. Black was the predominant color and Mai had to wonder if Naru had been so fond of black before Gene's death as well. It certainly lent credence to the idea.

The buildings behind her were brick-covered and more rustic looking than the cement tower that housed S.P.R. Across the one-lane street, behind two wooden large doors was a pub and café. There was no outdoor seating like she'd imagined, but she supposed it made sense seeing as they were down a side alleyway that didn't have much room to spare for even the one-lane road.

Rain dropped down on Mai. She didn't avoid the heavy droplet while she studied the building as she hadn't bothered to fix her hair or make-up, even the little she normally wore, as she hadn't gotten much time to prepare this morning. In a cream skirt, dark brown turtleneck and cotton leggings, Mai didn't stand out in the British crowd so much as didn't fit in quite right.

A black umbrella tipped over her head, blocking the rest of the buildings higher floors from view. Swiveling around, Mai was faced with having to crane her neck upward again to meet Lin's eyes. Patient, but amused.

"Ow," Mai whined, cradling the back of her neck.

"Looking up at the buildings like that would be painful," he conceded, "but as fascinating as the different architecture is, a certain President of our S.P.R. is getting impatient." His voice had dropped lower as if was sharing a secret. Mai leaned around Lin, spotting Naru just inside the building, holding the door open with a horseshoe frown marring his expression. "Shall we put him out of his misery?"

"Sure." She ducked closer to Lin, so they could share the umbrella. "Though I'm shocked he's even waiting for us—wait, nope, there he goes."

"Well," Lin began slowly. "He's improved. He nearly waited for us, and that's a far cry from what he normally is accustomed to. Making him wait is healthy for him."

Mai nodded in agreement, then verbally confirmed. "Too true."

Gauging the distance, Mai hopped over a puddle, but miscalculated, almost falling. She kept herself upright with a clenching grip on Lin's forearm. Lin scoffed disbelievingly, shaking his head. "Of all the people I know, you require the most supervision, Taniyama-san, and for a near adult, it's shocking to say the least." Mai steadied herself and released his arm finally. The bridge of her nose felt hot, a sure sign of her blushing. "Mostly from life's simple dangers: crossing the street, insensible shoes," he eyed hers accordingly, "and now, puddles and slick streets. The list grows. Do you think one day you'll outgrow this phase?"

Mai made a noise crossed between a laugh and an offended noise, unsure of how to take his statement. Lin sure could be chatty and judgmental when he felt like it. "This kind of luck has always followed me," she muttered.

Lin held the door open for her as he shook the water off the umbrella. "Let's hope you'll eventually overcome this…deficiency, hmm?"

Mai smiled up at him, but still grumbled under her breath as she walked to follow Naru. A glass gate separated them and when she tried to push it open, the barrier refused to budge. Wide-eyed and curious, Mai glanced up at Naru who merely shook his head at her. Voices behind her grew louder, but as they were in another language, it took her a moment to realize the sharp calls were in fact aimed at her. She turned and saw one official looking guard heading toward her, and another speaking quietly, but harshly with Lin.

Mai half-turned. "Naru," she called. She heard his sigh, and sourly thought, _Great, I'm on my own. _

She stepped away from the gate and smiled sheepishly up at the guard who towered over her with a dark look. He said something she didn't understand, but from the sound of his voice he wasn't happy—at all.

**"Um—I, ****my English isn't very good**_," _she said quickly before clamming up embarrassedly. Her English was disjointed, but at least understandable as the security guard nodded gruffly, but still reached for her. Sidestepping, she dodged his grip, pretending to be leaning down to tie her shoe, only to remember she was wearing lace-less flats. _Crap._

Glancing behind, hoping that Naru would help her out, she squeaked aloud when she saw him speaking with an elder man, gray in the hair, tan of skin—and fervently ignoring her. Yanked to her feet, she stumbled in the security guards' grip. She briefly considered calling for Naru, but quelled the thought just as quickly. He'd never let her forget that she had asked for his help the entire time she was here. She relaxed in the security guard's tight grasp around her bicep. _Serves him right if I get kicked out. At least, this way I get to see the city. _

He marched her towards the door, until they were nearly to Lin, who waved his hand at the security guard and motioned for him to bring her over. Mai caught a couple words, enough to know that he was saying that she was with him. The security guard dropped her arm and Mai resisted rubbing it despite the ache building in it from being manhandled.

An exchange or two later and Lin finally turned back to her with an unaffected look. "You just need to sign in. You'll need your ID."

Mai looked down, searching for her purse…that wasn't there. She patted her pockets a little desperately and then looked up at Lin guiltily. "…I think I left it at the apartment. I just got so caught up and Naru was annoying me—I'm sorry."

Lin didn't say anything, just watched her with a forlorn expression then closed his eyes, sighing miserably. Mai scowled, thinking that Lin was awfully dramatic today.

"**Excuse me**_." _Mai recognized the phrase and Naru's voice. She shifted nervously, glancing down and waiting for the onslaught—which didn't take long. "**Forgive my dimwitted assistant**_."_

"Hey!" Naru gave her a sharp look, silencing her. Her spoke with the guards gesturing at her dramatically before shaking both their hands. Turning abruptly, Naru slipped his hand around her bicep and Mai winced at the pressure again clamped around the same arm. "Ow, Naru, ease up. Ow! Quit it. I'm serious. _Naru!_" She gasped, trying to catch her balance as he pulled her along relentlessly. They slipped through the glass gate that didn't give them any trouble this time.

Lin followed the two, close behind, but far enough that if Naru were to say—drop her—he would have enough warning so as not to step on the girl. That would be...embarrassing, to say the least. Ahead there were six elevators and two bells chimed, signaling two separate elevators opening. Naru slipped into one and Mai stumbled into him when her toe caught in the gap in the floor where the doors swished open and closed. The impact jarred him into the mirrored wall and he lightly shoved her away as Lin slipped into the elevator to join them.

"Jerk," she muttered, eying him fiercely and slipping into the far corner.

As he clicked the button for their designated floor, Lin heard Naru mumble something in English, nearly incoherent.

"**More trouble than she's worth**_._"

* * *

The steep rise in the elevator felt like Mai had just swallowed her stomach whole followed by all her other organs. She quickly put the back of her hand to her mouth, quelling the urge to toss her cookies all over her boss' shiny black shoes. She didn't think he would appreciate her vomit that much. She wasn't unused to elevators, but she had never been in one that shot up so quickly as to nearly make pancakes out of its occupants.

Taking several deep breaths, she was grateful when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Naru didn't wait for her and exited, followed shortly by his rushing and gray-looking assistant and finally Lin who stayed even farther behind the two then before. Lin warily followed behind Mai, noting her pallid features and sallow-looking eyes. Taniyama wasn't looking very good.

They paraded one-by-one down a narrow hallway that had been painted in one uniform deep cobalt blue, the color of a deep ocean. _Pretty_, Mai thought, _but exhausting to the eye._

Eventually, the hallway ended at a door locked by a coded panel which Naru tried unsuccessfully to open. In the upper corner of the hall, Mai noted a blinking red light settled on top of a camera, obviously recording them. She didn't understand the necessity for all the security measures. Maybe when Naru was in a better mood, she'd ask.

Grumbling unhappily at being locked out, Naru signaled to Lin, who peered at the rotating-numbered keypad.

"They changed the codes, but Madoka sent them ahead in an email last week. If you had checked it…" he said with a hint of condescension. When aimed at Naru, Mai decided she liked Lin's tone. But again, only when it was aimed at Naru.

Naru ignored him and pushed the buzzing door open after Lin entered the code, a long string of indistinguishable numbers. They were immediately met with an open foyer that housed one large desk, likely the reception area. Or so she'd thought until, she noticed there were two more people behind the desk, one man, one woman, both staring at several television screens—security cameras. _What was this place—a freaking fortress? Were they storming a castle?_

Naru spoke swiftly to the guards in that language that wasn't entirely familiar and Mai struggled to keep up. Mai leaned against the wall trying to steady her seemingly light mind that felt like feathers instead of a well-connected nervous system and brain. She chalked it up to jetlag.

The language she heard was stilted and clipped, very Naru, but also very…different. Focusing harder, she took in his words more carefully until she understood the minimal difference she was picking up. Ever-so-slightly, Naru's voice was shifting, the tone and tenor of his accent were slipping back into more familiar roots that sounded more at ease with the English language. It took Mai a moment to remember that Naru had indeed grown up here, and obviously he would be a product of his environment, but the subtle shift of his intonation was a little jarring…and also a little sexy. The ease and grace in which he could so easily shuffle between languages and accents were impressive, Mai had to admit. Then she remembered how he had dragged her through the gate without a care, though the more she thought about it, he hadn't been that rough, and more than likely it was half for show for the guards. That still didn't make it _okay, _but it was a little more understandable.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mai was distracted by a young man sauntering into the room from a hallway on the right, a hand in his pocket and the other holding a phone to his ear. He was thin, a little gawky-looking, and had the strangest black-and-gray, pepper-colored hair cut choppy and short just above his ears. Mai guessed he was somewhere in his 20s, but couldn't peg which side of his 20s it was because of the hair. For someone so young, how the hell did he have so much gray hair already?

Eyebrows raised when he spotted them, he spoke into the cell phone in quick, hushed tones and flipped it shut with a flick of his wrist. Mai rolled her eyes at the seemingly suave move. It might have piqued her interest had she not seen Takigawa repeat the same move ad nauseam until she had threatened to break his precious phone in half. She didn't have to worry about Takigawa doing it anymore either as he now had his fancy new touch-screen phone.

The peppercorn-haired man was dressed in loose-fitted khakis and a maroon t-shirt fitted nicely to his frame, yet tattered and holey at the bottom hem. He came to a halt in front of them, eying them with a mix of amusement and curiosity rolled into one small tilt of his head and a glint in his eye. Not unsurprisingly, the man's gaze breezed easily over Mai without the slightest pause and fixed intently on Naru. Mai scoffed as the two sized each other up, neither acknowledging her disbelief. Gaunt cheekbones and a sharp jaw line gave him a stark profile rounding out almond-shaped, peaked eyes. It made Mai think that he was on the younger side of his 20's after all. It was odd, to say the least.

The man had that same air about him that Mai knew meant trouble, an edge of readiness…just like Naru, just like Takigawa, just like Ayako—hell, every person who worked for S.P.R. had that kind of aura surrounding them, except maybe Mai. Even John had the silent type of danger belying his quiet demeanor. He had the so-good-he-must-be-bad about him. _Kind of like chocolate, _Mai thought.

Smiling in an effectively disarming manner, the man extended his hand to Naru.

"**Noll**_,_" Lin warned in one stern word.

The corner of Naru's lips quirked in a challenging manner. "**It's fine**_." _

The man smiled back in the same manner and Mai felt lost, like she'd missed something.

Quirking her head to the side, she whispered to Lin. "What's going on?"

Lin's eyes slid briefly to Mai then back to the untaken proffered handshake hanging between Naru and the strange man.

"A moment, Taniyama-san," he said evenly.

Mai grumped, soundly denied as she watched Naru take the man's hand in an unexpectedly gentle handshake, more like a clasping of hands than a firm grip. They held on for a few moments until the other man withdrew in a slow motion that didn't fully hide the brief moment of pain that flashed in his eyes.

The man gave a soft, enticing smile. "**You must be Oliver**."

"**Like you had any doubts when you came over, Corwin**." Naru replied drolly, a hint of condescension creeping into his voice when he said the other man's name. The taut lines in his face didn't match his easy tone. Gaze flickering between the two, Mai didn't catch everything they said, but from Naru's tone, he sounded…bored?

The man's smile only reaffirmed. "**Maybe. Lin, pleasure to see you again. I hope your flight fared better than last time**_." _From her angle, Mai noticed the man wiggling his fingers behind his back as if he was stretching them out where Naru and Lin couldn't see. _Hiding weakness_, Mai thought. Mai didn't know Naru to be that strong and for him to engage in some sort of contest in physical strength was unheard of. The list of things Mai didn't know was increasing exponentially, raising her ire in tandem.

"**Corwin**_," _Lin said simply, reaching for the man's hand, and this time Mai caught the man's name: Corwin.

Lin only hesitated when Naru's voice cut through, his tone deceptively calm, though Lin knew better. Naru's words always had purpose and were carefully chosen.

"**Probably a poor idea**," Naru interrupted placidly, glancing out the window before looking back to his assistant. Lin considered his words, and Mai wondered why Lin had hesitated at all, and just _what was a bad idea?_

Lin, to Mai's surprise and minute satisfaction ignored Naru, and took Corwin's hand without a thought and at the look of displeasure on Naru's face, she felt she'd missed something _again._

Lin coughed politely. "**Two touch-sensitive psychics,**" Lin clarified to Mai when she audibly growled and scowled at all the men, uncaring who the stranger, or Corwin-whatever, was.

"What?" Mai asked, putting a hand on Lin's arm, trying harder to get his attention. Naru was psychometric, so touch-sensitive: check. Lin, on the other hand was no such thing to her knowledge, and Mai certainly wasn't by any stretch of the imagination, which left the last man standing in the room, Corwin.

"Oh," Mai chimed helpfully in realization. "You're a psychic." A real smile blossomed brilliantly drawing the man's attention effectively over to her. "Are you being tested here as well?" Mai waited for an answer, but the man merely stared patiently before looking to Lin, as if for an answer.

Charmingly, the man gestured to Mai, almost self-consciously. "**Ah, Lin, if you wouldn't mind**_._"

Lin nodded, understanding. _"_**Not a problem. She was merely commenting—**"

"**Mai speaks proper English on her own**_," _Naru intoned severely._ "_**Don't make exceptions for her**_." _When Naru turned to her, she feigned ignorance beatifically to what he said, but the brilliant red streak of embarrassment lighting over the arch of her nose gave her away. She had picked up the gist of everything, but was being stubborn.

Corwin, like everyone else she would meet here, would probably not speak fluent Japanese. The realization was starting to weigh heavily in Mai's mind.

Struggling, Mai's confident grin wavered as she spoke. Facing Corwin, she tried to speak, shamed into it by Naru's words. "**I'm like..ah, you**," she said, breathing deeply to relieve her frantic nerves. She wracked her brain for the proper translation, biting her lip when her mind drew a blank. Embarrassed, she took another wavering breath. _"_**Um…I'm-I can't remember the word. Sorry.**_"_

"**Psychic**," Corwin provided, and Mai nodded vigorously in return, relieved that he hadn't mocked her paltry attempt at speaking another language.

Confidence mildly bolstered by his help, she continued._ "_**P****sychic, yes. But actually, I just remembered. Clairvoyant, I think is what I-uh—meant. Were both psychics.**_"_ She spoke slowly, though her thoughts, if possible, felt even slower.

Naru stubbornly said nothing, not aiding her in the least. The strange male, Corwin, seemed amused and nodded in return. He didn't bother with anything else, only turned to Mai and smiled eagerly at her, reaching for her hand without prompt. Naru slid Mai a stern glance that was narrowed from the corner of his eyes. Watching her, but not really wanting to be seen making the full effort. She missed it completely as she eyed Corwin's hand warily with her full attention. She had caught as much from the brief exchanges between the men.

Cautiously, Mai looked to Naru and Lin wanting to make sure of something before she took the man's hand. "Did I miss something before? Now would be the time to mention it," she pressed, metaphorically twiddling her fingers to waste time.

Neither said a word, and Mai puffed out her cheeks childishly forgetting that others could see her. Trying to cover herself, she put a hand to her cheek and in spite of them, quickly slid her hand into his in a welcome grip. Corwin didn't seem affronted that she, like Lin and Naru, had hesitated to take his hand. It seemed insulting to her, but he was utterly unaffected. His hand was cold, but felt…oddly normal, absolutely mundane. No bad feelings, or preemptive warnings lit her conscience…which confused her. Why had the men been so reticent?

"**I'm Mai**_." _That simple phrase of introduction she knew, but she still frowned at her abysmal accent. "**Nice to meet you**_,_" she said carefully.

Without hesitation, Corwin prattled on faster than Mai could keep up. "**The same. I take it you'll be one of Dr. Brandt's darlings, hmm? Charming fellow. In fact**_—"_

"_**Corwin**!" _A screech echoed down the hall, and Mai clapped her hands over her ears at the sharp sound. A muffled conversation was heard, someone trying to calm someone else (likely the person who had yelled after him). Following close behind, the faint echo of heels clipped down the hallway. Feminine, Mai decided easily.

A small indent crested in his cheek. _A dimple_, she noticed, and unabashedly Mai stared at the blue-eyed, pepper-haired, gawky slip of a man as he glanced to the hallway and then quickly back to her.

He grimaced. "**Lennie isn't too happy with me right now. ****Coming down the hall would be Dr. Oehler,**_" _he supplied feigning fear with weak resolve to his words.

He gave Mai's hand one last firm shake and dropped it with just as much quickness. Mai was disappointed. She'd been expecting something—well, something a little _more_ than that. Maybe a spark, or a vision, but nothing happened. Not even a fizzling wisp of power.

"**Well, I was actually just heading to the lab—might you all be heading that way**_?"_ Corwin asked them quickly.

Before they could answer, a woman streaked into the room from around the same corner Corwin had come in like the hounds of hell were hot on her heels. Tall, nearly Naru's height, the woman stalked in, making a beeline for Corwin with a spine-curling scowl on her face. Everything about the woman was meant to be noticeable, and Mai compared her own matte-colored outfit, meant to blend in and not be too standout-ish for her first day.

A brilliant crimson triangle of fabric peeked out beneath the woman's white lab coat synched at the waist as day-worn, brown frizzy curls stuck out from her haphazard updo. The woman had velvet brown skin, a shade darker than her favorite blend of tea.

Dr. Oehler's stern gaze at Corwin promised retribution, but she only glanced his way once before turning to them. Mai shifted her balance to her other foot, both of which were starting to ache from standing around for too long. She still wasn't fully recuperated from the long travel.

"**My apologies, Oliver, Lin. I wasn't informed you would be in today. Otherwise, we would have properly received you**_." _Her words were neutral, but her tone sounded irritated. Most likely from the other psychic, woman, Dr. Oehler, bent at the waist, tucking her head in greeting. The barest smile lit her lips in greeting as she spotted Mai. "**You must be Mai Taniyama. We'll be well-acquainted soon, I'm sure.**_"_

Naru, finally speaking, explained for Mai. "Dr. Oehler is the assistant director of our Laboratory Research and Testing." Naru's expression while normally serious seemed infinitesimally disturbed. Something was bugging him, but she would have to wait until they were alone to ask, and even then, she expected that he wouldn't tell her.

Filing that away for later, Mai turned to Naru, her expression saccharine as she was asking him a favor. "Tell her that I'm pleased to meet her, please?"

"No," Naru quipped, unfazed by her manipulations.

Making herself noticed, Dr. Oehler interrupted. _"_**Oliver, I know Dr. Brandt is eager to meet with you. If you would follow me, please**_," _she suggested politely.

Naru glanced at Lin and the elder man nodded. They made to follow when Dr. Oehler paused, turning. "**Ah, Corwin, why don't you make yourself useful—take Mai around the office and show her around. Familiarize her.**_" _Corwin shrugged, looking not-so-imposed-upon.

Naru immediately refuted it with a nonchalant grace. "**Lin can do that. He knows the offices just as well. I'm sure Corwin has somewhere to be.**_"_

Finding his loophole, cheerily, Corwin stood up straighter and scooted closer to the door, inch by inch. _"_**A****ctually, I do. Errands for Lennie, or she'll have my head**_." _He glanced nearly questioningly at Dr. Oehler, who was a taut cord of muscles. "**Mackenzie, I'll catch you later.**_"_ Corwin made for the last hallway towards the entrance before Dr. Oehler could get in a word edgewise.

Dr. Oehler, though irritated, went on. "**Shall we**?_"_

_

* * *

_

Next: Chapter 3: Those in Glass (Laboratories)

* * *

AN: I apologize to all of the reviewers to who I haven't replied. Normally, I respond to each and every one, but I've been a tad bit busy lately and now I can't remember to which people I've written and the other's I haven't. I'll do my best to improve on that.


	4. Those in Glass Laboratories

**History of War**

Chapter 3: Those in Glass [Laboratories] Shouldn't Throw Stones

* * *

3.27.10

AN: IMPORTANT: English spoken aloud will always be written in "bold." Japanese will be regular font. Emphasis remains italics. The second chapter has been updated to reflect this as well.

Enjoy.

* * *

The tour of the lab was quick. Employee office, employee locker room, the laboratory, board room, conference room and several other offices they bypassed on the tour. They were all covered in metaphorical DO NOT CROSS LINE tape—yellow and cautionary. Mai wasn't allowed access anywhere but the kitchen, the front office (that conveniently had a couch to sleep on), the lab and the retirement room: full of couches, a small fridge and pillows everywhere.

Surprisingly, the testing lab room was miniscule, consisting only of a couple of tables and a few more cabinets. While the small, cozy room made her feel less pressure (and thus less nervous), it was also disappointing because she had expected a grand testing facility with gadgets and device…thingys. Needles and heart monitors, at least. Maybe a toxic material sign, but nothing of the sort was here. Whatchamacallits and other technological devices that she couldn't pronounce surrounding her from how Naru had briefly described it. He'd also been smiling annoyingly and smugly around the time he'd been telling her about it, so maybe he was pulling her leg. It wouldn't be the first time.

Lin led her along the hallways silently occasionally pointing out areas he thought were necessary for her to be familiar—which wasn't all that many when you could count that on your fingers with some to spare.

Overall, S.P.R. wasn't that big and before long they had circled the entire floor. As they turned the last corner, Mai spotted Dr. Oehler coming out of the office and quietly shutting the door behind her.

She looked up at them. "**Ah, good timing you two. Your boss is in with Dr. Brandt for a bit, I think. Shall I show you the lab**?"

Mai looked to Lin, and shook her head. "**Ah, Lin's already shown me it**."

Dr. Oehler looked to Lin, he expression quizzical. "**You have**?"

Lin shook his head. "**Not the main facility, no**."

Dr. Oehler's eyes pinched as she smiled. "**Okay. Well, follow me—Mai, we can take your preliminary measurements while we wait for Oliver**."

* * *

It turned out that the main lab wasn't on the same floor as the first lab and reception area. Naru hadn't been kidding when he had described the gigantic laboratory. It was huge, taking up the entirety of the floor above S.P.R.'s main floor.

Mai sat on a cold, stainless steel island with a thermometer measuring her temperature under her tongue and Dr. Oehler holding two fingers to her pulse at her wrist, counting her heartbeats. She really didn't want to be poked and prodded, but had felt bad declining Dr. Oehler's suggestion. She didn't want to be resistant on the first occasion, and give off a bad impression, setting the tone for a bad rapport the entire time she would be here. In a way, Mai appreciated the feminine touch as the only tests she'd ever had to endure were under Naru's cold, restrained _consideration_.

S.P.R.'s main lab reminded Mai more of a ballet studio than a high tech scientific facility. The area was wide open divided into three sections: one for a more medical-seeming area with lots of scary and sharp looking devices, the second area had a padded floor, separated by only two walls from the medical section and looked like it hadn't been used for awhile. It served as more of a storage area than anything else with boxes stacked high, nearly to the ceiling. The final section of the room was a testing floor that was encapsulated by thick glass walls. Probably reinforced glass by the weird way it reflected light. Around the perimeter of the glass encasement were several cameras. Ones that Mai recognized: thermal imaging, night vision, E.V.P. equipment, and cameras that specialized in picking up some weird signatures that weren't heat or light (Naru hypothesized that it could be the very first signs of aura imaging). The glass room made Mai nervous for some reason, and trusting her instincts for once, she planned to stay as far away from it as possible.

She knew reinforced glass was incredibly strong, but Mai was used to things not going her way. There was always the unlikely chance that she would find a way to shatter the glass…and then fall through it. That would undoubtedly leave an impression on her researchers….though probably an unfavorable one.

Across the room, Lin perched against a set of unused monitors, watching and waiting. Dr. Oehler dropped Mai's wrist and scribbled notes onto a small pocket notepad. Glancing up at Mai through wire-rimmed glasses, Dr. Oehler took the thermometer out after it beeped.

"**What do you say to a little demonstration of your abilities, Mai**?" Dr. Oehler said with an encouraging tone. "**I hear you have the uncanny knack for corporeal transference**—"

Mai waited for Lin to translate, which he did so begrudgingly. It wasn't a good sign. It was only the first day of being at S.P.R. and already Lin was getting visibly annoyed at having to translate for her.

When he finished, Mai looked a little panicked as she wracked her brain for reasons why she shouldn't demonstrate off her powers today. Really, it was just nerves, but more than anything else, Mai hated showing off her powers. It felt like bragging, especially after Takigawa had told her that she possessed more powers than he had ever heard of, a veritable 'cocktail' of E.S.P. and psychic abilities running rampant throughout her. The statement was more sobering than any reason to be proud of.

Besides, her powers weren't so easily manifested. It took time, required a certain scenario (the dangerous kind), and a bit of willpower.

Politely, she tried to decline, only to be stopped short when someone else spoke.

"**I think we'll have to pass on that today.**" The familiar defiance she heard flatlined the panic in her head. Naru, calm and placid, walked came over from the other side of the room, weaving between stations, and obviously having come from the elevators. Mai hopped off the steel island and moved closer to him, tugging her jacket back on.

Mai swiveled to look at Dr. Oehler. "**Next time**," Mai promised, nodding to Dr. Oehler. The female doctor acquiesced with a simple expression on her face.

"**Another time, Mai. Dr. Brandt**," Dr. Oehler greeted. Mai discreetly turned her head, slyly looking to see who she was talking to.

A short, stout, white-wisp haired man came in dressed in a tweed jacket layered over a blocky patterned button-up. His style was loud, obnoxious and unattractive. Standing next to Naru, he looked like a duck being compared to a swan and falling far short of the mark.

Without pause, the older man stepped closer to Mai and gripped her chin between two fingers and tilted her head left, right, down and then left again while he seemingly studied her. He pulled the lids of her eyes up and she blinked rapidly when he released them. Like a shark he circled around her, poking her in the sides and finally coming to a rest back in front of her, expectant.

"**Open your mouth**," he commanded in a flat voice.

Mai hesitated, looking undecided and not at all much like Mai, her normal resilience and stubbornness gone by the wayside under his relentless scrutiny. Almost shyly, she tucked her chin down and parted her lips demurely.

Dr. Brandt wasn't a duck—he was an eagle. A raptor, pawing at her and tearing her apart like she was carrion.

He tapped her forehead roughly. "**Up, girl. Up, so that I can see**," he reprimanded. Mai complied, easing her chin upward. Dr. Brandt didn't bother looking in her mouth, only tapped her chin sharply. Her teeth clicked sharply.

Dr. Brandt nodded approvingly and turned to Naru. "**Good, she understands English and is compliant enough. I already have too many difficult specimens**." He looked warningly down at Mai again. She took a nervous half-step behind Naru, hating the weakness for what it was. "**I won't waste my time with another of that kind. Taniyama, is it? Or Mai, maybe? Perhaps you have more time to run some tests to lay the initial groundwork for our study. As we only have two months with you, I'd prefer to get as much done as early as possibly in this time-constricted study. We have a lot of ground to cover.**" Dr. Brandt reached up and removed his glasses, slipping them into his shirt pocket."**Oliver, if you wouldn't mind, we'll need a baseline for a P.K. user as well, and we'll need some primary data**—"

"**Mai isn't a P.K. user**," Lin interrupted, his tone more forceful than usual.

Dr. Brandt tilted his head, a disdainful look pulling at the corner of his lips. He nodded sharply. "**Thank you, Lin, for reminding me of that. I must have forgotten. After reading over her file—that you helped write up—I understood she has demonstrated not only several kinds of psychic abilities, but they also happen to range in several different categories of E.S.P.**" His voice grew sour and more perturbed, clearly condescending.** "Who knew, that if she registered in four out of the five psychic types, that she wouldn't display the final type? Thank goodness you are here to inform us. Otherwise, how much time would we have **_**wasted **_**needlessly on all these pricey, useless, outdated, and rarely correct tests. Exceptional, really**."

Lin's jaw fastened tight, his lips pursed. "**I was merely under the impression that Mai has not yet demonstrated P.K., thus until it is necessary to test for a baseline. I must insist that Noll refrain from any demonstrations. I'm sure you understand the delicate nature of how his abilities can, cannot and absolutely **_**will not **_**be used over his duration here. I'm also sure that if you don't comprehend the information I'm conveying to you, that you can talk it over with his parents, both of which are entirely familiar with his capabilities and his recent mishaps having demonstrated his power**."

Naru seemed undisturbed, except for the last comment which his eye twitched. Mai turned away as Naru surveyed her from his peripherals, noting the minor distress flicker over her features, decidedly not very Mai-like. Something to deal with later.

"**Dr. Brandt, I'm afraid we have other business to attend to today**. **Preliminary testing will begin as scheduled on Wednesday as we'd decided prior to coming here**,**" **Naru said resolutely.

"**I'd prefer sooner**," the old man said, sounding perturbed.

Mai couldn't see Naru's expression from her angle, but didn't miss the distaste in his tone. "**Do you suspect these tests will take longer than expected? If so, I am more than capable of running the tests if you are concerned with falling behind schedule. Lin and I used to be Madoka's assistants and I can attest to our competence as we have been out in the field for over two years**."

Dr. Brandt didn't quite sneer, but the expression shared a similar sentiment. "**Fieldwork is completely different from laboratory experiments. Our work is in the details**. **Yours is in the strength of your banishment, your exorcisms—whether it's brute strength of force or not, I have yet to determine.**" He glared at Lin and scoffed caustically. "**Yes, Lin, I've heard of **_**your**_** capabilities. From the video we have in the vault of you, you possess the required control, but you are not necessarily a deep well of power.**" He looked down his nose at Naru. "**From what I've seen of you, Oliver, you are an untapped reservoir of power, but have no notion of finesse, nor control."**

Naru smiled benignly—scathing, but subdued. "**I'm sure our 100% turn over rate of success on all my cases speaks for itself then."**

Dr. Brandt's frown sunk further onto his face when Naru didn't rise to the bait. "**Wednesday will work out fine. We will not be requiring your assistance nor your presence during any of the testing, Oliver. Lin, the same to you. Will that be a problem? I'm sure you can understand why. The task of lab testing is much too tedious to bring you up to speed on everything you don't know or are unfamiliar with. It would be too much work**."

"**Are we not allowed to observe even**?" Lin asked, curiosity piqued.

"**No, and I'm sure you understand why—if the credentials Oliver was spouting hold any water. The girl should be on her own with no outside influence. No handholding allowed during scientific research. Now, I'll be taking my leave. Give Madoka my regards**."

Dr. Brandt turned and stalked off without waiting for rebuke. Dr. Oehler loomed nearby looking mildly impressed at something, but standoffish still. She nodded slightly and made to follow her senior doctor, probably to share the new paperwork on Mai, though nothing noticeable had occurred to Mai.

Pausing on her way, Dr. Oehler turned briskly to them, hair settling neatly on her shoulders. She appraised them with a sly, slanted look. "**You can find your way out, I take it**." It wasn't quite rude, but it was a dismissal all the same.

Lin nodded and the three of them watched her go. Naru turned to Mai who was looking a little pale.

"**Catch all that**?" Naru asked in English, testing her. He observed her profile while she refused to look at him.

"Hmm?" Mai asked in return, still reeling from taking in all the tension and English.

Naru half-smiled that evil twist of lips, apparently unfazed. "Did you catch all that? You'll be working alone with Dr. Brandt. Fascinating."

Mai scowled, turning to him. "Isn't that Yasuhara's line?"

Naru only gave her that same unreadable smile.

Mai looked away, suddenly bashful and sullen. "Will Dr. Oehler be there at least?" Mai asked, pitch lowering apprehensively.

Naru shrugged. "Maybe."

Mai visibly wilted and looked defeated. "Can we go back now?"

The atmosphere in the room shifted. Naru shook his head, expression slipping into the vacant poker face she was so used to. It was comforting.

"We have one more stop. Then we'll stop by the local market to stock the apartment for a bit. Eggs and rice can't hold us over for the month. Have any special dishes in mind?" He was trying to distract her from being at the tender mercies of Dr. Brandt. It wasn't Naru's normal modus operandi.

For once he was actually being nice. Cooking…with Naru? Mai brightened, buoyant with the thought of getting the chance to be domestic with Naru...and Lin, though it not being just the two of them wasn't too much of a sacrifice. Lin was good company and made her all the more comfortable around Naru. Being alone with him while exhilarating…was incredibly nerve-wracking. In the face of that, the earlier threat of experiments with Dr. Brandt diminished exponentially. Mai was easily distracted, and all the more willing when it was Naru doing the distracting. He almost smiled at her.

Mai tilted her head in a coquettish way that made Naru wary and Lin look away. Voice low and teasing, Mai asked, "Are you going to cook for me?"

Naru perked an eyebrow. "Don't be coy, Mai. You know I don't cook."

But nothing he said after that seemed to bother her. Even after meeting the _pleasant_ Dr. Brandt, Mai was still perky and bubbly as usual. Naru just wondered how long the distraction would last. They had yet to meet the British S.P.R.'s psychics yet. And wouldn't that be just peachy when one was as talkative as a bonsai tree (rivaling Naru himself) and the other had the same disposition as a porcupine. Mai didn't know the treat she was in store for. Even with that dazzling smile she gave him as she led the way back to the elevator (though she kept a curious distance away from the glass room).

"Let's go," Naru prompted, following behind Mai. They both turned when Lin didn't follow. Statuesque and gloomy-looking, he stared ardently at the floor, fringe hanging loose and unkempt.

Naru stared unimpressed. Mai knew she'd have to be the one to ask if she wanted to know what was going on. It was a common thing for her to feel left out of the loop between Lin and Naru, two of the most silent, let-well-enough-alone men in her life.

"Lin."

Lin looked up, a curious expression on his face. "It's nothing. Naru, run your errand. It's getting on. I'd rather be home before rush hour starts."

* * *

Lin waved a hand through the air, looking annoyed and distracted. As the night wore on, his dour mood hadn't lifted. From the kitchen window, Mai could see the sun fading behind the buildings. Naru was in his chair, reading a paper and hadn't said a word for over an hour after he'd requested gnocchi and Bolognese, an Italian dish Mai had never heard of.

Mai watched Lin inquisitively. "What is it?" she asked again after she hadn't gotten an answer the first time. She leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to draw his attention to get him to look at her.

Lin ladled some of the sauce and leaned over to taste it. He winced and wrinkled his nose at the taste and set the ladle to the side.

He paused, weighing whether or not to share, but after a moment said, "My shikigami are restless." Mai waved her hand at him, urging him to go on. Lin craned his neck, giving Mai his profile. "They don't like Leonie very much. She sets them on edge."

"Your shikigami…ah, never mind." Mai hesitated, not wanting to make Lin feel more uncomfortable than he looked. He rarely shared anything about his shikigami. Mai had seen them on the rare occasion and had even almost spoken to one, had Lin not warned her not to commune with his shiki again.

Mai puckered her lips in thought. "Who's Leonie?"

"You'll meet her soon enough. Is dinner ready yet?" Naru's previously generous demeanor had vanished under his waxing appetite. Mai hadn't known that Naru would be such a grouch when he was hungry.

"It's ready. Set the silverware," Lin said, shifting off the burner and taking the food off the heat.

A light at the corner of her eye caught Mai's attention, halting her progress to the table. Entranced, she spun, following the light hovering at the edge of her vision.

A sharp noise pulled her back. Lin's piercing whistle—his call-to-arms for his shiki.

"_Naki. _Leave her alone." Lin's voice was rigid, stern. He didn't say it the way a parent scolded a child for misbehaving, which was the relationship Mai had expected between Lin and his seemingly small demons. It was the way you warned off someone or something dangerous—a threat. Mai blinked up curiously while the two men in the kitchen eyed her with a reticent wariness. Neither looked at all shocked that Mai had nearly been snared yet again by something beyond her capacity.

The light flared brighter when Mai ignored it and Mai couldn't help the smile on her face. "Is that one of them?" she asked, slightly enthralled by the bobbing light she could barely register in her field of vision.

"Yes," Lin said exhaustedly. He didn't look the least bit amused, and had clearly forgotten the food. The spoon in his hand looked more ready to be wielded as a weapon than used for serving a meal. Mai found the idea comical. Facing off with a demon or spirit with only a carved spoon and your own determination. It seemed too much like something Mai would do. Mai reached out to the bobbing light which fluttered at the edge of her fingertips.

Mai heard their breathing change sharply, so she withdrew, not wanting to worry them anymore—or get scolded.

"They remind me of the will o'wisps in my dream."

Naru rubbed his eyes, but decided to ignore the two as he dished out the pasta onto separate plates.

Lin shook his head. "I can guarantee they are nothing of the sort. Mai...please refrain from tempting Naki. She already likes you too much."

Mai glanced between the onmyouji and the light whirling in front of her almost as if the shiki was dancing. "Naki," Mai said, trying the name out.

The light spun and grew brighter once again. Naki, the shiki, pulsed once and then raced back behind Lin to disappear as if she had been summoned—and maybe she had. "—and perhaps I should recommend that you do not call on her name, Mai. The shiki are dangerous and you share no contract with them. I'd prefer if you didn't try to push these boundaries for your own benefit and my peace of mind."

Mai stared inquisitively at him, but nodded. Naru stepped between the two and handed Mai her own plate. Shepherding with a light touch on her back, he maneuvered her to the table where they all sat quietly, mulling over dinner, today's run-in with Dr. Brandt, and the future humps they would have to overcome very soon.

The discontent that had been brewing in Mai earlier manifested once again, sinking further into her chest. Once again, she tried to push it aside, and reluctantly the feeling withdrew, almost as if it was fighting her. Mai glanced out the window as she pushed the pasta around her plate. Food wasn't enough to distract her. Something wasn't quite right, and it was beginning to build, inch by inch until she wouldn't be able to ignore it anymore. Mai shoveled another gob of pasta into her mouth as she silently hoped everything wouldn't all blow up in her face.

_Fat chance._

* * *

Short chap. Naru gets more screen time even when he's banned from the lab _and_ testing facilities. Sneaky and persistent, that scientist.

_Next Chapter: Shock Therapy_


	5. Shock Therapy

**History of War**

_Chapter 4: Shock Therapy_

* * *

4.11.10

* * *

Thanks to all of the nice and wonderfully brilliant reviewers, and the silent watchers (I've been known to do that as well—so no complaints on this side of the fence, eh?)

* * *

The scent of lavender reminded her of two comfortable and familiar things.: her laundry detergent and her mother who always wore some variance of floral perfumes.

The hint of lavender though was subsiding under the musk of mold and damp wood. Wrinkling her nose, Mai opened her eyes a sliver as if the slower she did it, the less likely something would jump out at her. She was in a dark hallway, which to a ghost hunter was like being dropped in shark-filled waters, riddled with bloodied cuts. Just enough to attract the predators, which was kind of the way Mai had always viewed the relationships between psychics and ghosts. A sort of bait-and-wait game.

Was this an old residence? From the way the walls were damp and coated with a thin, green layer of moss (_maybe mold_, she thought), it could have been a bathhouse. It was certainly a little far-fetched, ghost hunting-wise, but she'd seen far more exotic places haunted than this.

Giving a surreptitious glance down either side of the hallway, Mai resumed her duties, carefully turning the camera to find the right angle down the hallway to capture as much of the view as possible. She tuned the settings for auto-focus, as well as set the dial on thermal and night vision settings that would alternate every ten minutes, so as to save power and efficiency. The settings could also be tuned remotely from the base, so if Naru didn't like it, he could adjust it himself.

Mai uncapped the lens and stared at herself in the fishbowl reflection. She hastily jumped back when she realized the red light was blinking. It was recording. _How embarrassing._

"Make sure you don't break another camera."

Mai was so startled by the voice so much that she nearly bowled over the camera in her retreat and almost did exactly what he had warned her not to do.

She hunched over the camera protectively, and tried not to think what kind of view was being linked back to the base—either her décolletage, or the flower printed shirt. There was always a chance that no one was at the base watching the monitors yet anyway.

Carefully right herself, Mai stiffly said,"Or what? You'll make me pay for it again by working for you for free? _Again? _I'm not so thick-headed that your scheme would work twice."

"I'd never do that to you." The short hairs on the back of Mai's neck stood erect as she felt more than heard him say that right next to her ear_. _Mai hastily drop-stepped away, turning to face him with a scowl after she took a deep breath to steady her resolve.

She glanced at him warily. "You already have."

"Never." A twitch of a smile moved his lips. Mai blinked incoherently a moment before she narrowed her eyes.

"_Gene_." She said it like an accusation. A surge of discomfort pulsed as she unconsciously clenched her fists. She glared a little malevolently at the boy who had practically purred into her ear mere seconds ago. Gene probably didn't know about Naru and her—the keyword being _probably. _Not that she was sure that he was so chivalrous as to obey boundaries like that—they were growing up, after all. At least, Mai was. Did Gene mature in age, if not body, the longer he lingered? It wasn't something Mai had the confidence to ask.

Mai recognized that smile, the familiar way it was unrestrained even when she'd said his name so scathingly.

Suddenly wary, Mai looked around the room in a confused manner, forgetting her former ire. "Are we…on a case?"

Gene couldn't help the smile that came then—at the simple way she had unquestionably included him like it was natural, merely by saying 'we.'

A creak of metal made Mai jump towards Gene as her back tensed with a sudden shock of fear cording her muscles. The camera she'd been adjusting blinked red again and was facing her—the opposite way she had adjusted it to.

All her previous ease and comfort vanished under the new tension.

Mai swallowed. "Gene."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she slowly backed toward him. The sound of her footfalls on the floor sounded like a cascade of war drums echoing in the hall.

She felt one steadying hand on her raised forearm. "Miss me?" Gene said nonchalantly, grabbing the back of her shirt and pulling her further from the camera.

Mai winced. "You've always been miserable at trying to lighten the mood at times like this. Give it a rest," she said, voice wavering.

The camera swiveled on his pedestal like a merry-go-round, round and around again. _Great, that thought just ruined festivals for me for the rest of my life, _Mai thought disgustedly. Though it was no less true.

The camera twitched backward, twisting clockwise twice before it settled back on them with a hard snap. "Someone has a terrible sense of humor," Mai groused. "_NOT funny at all,"_ she said louder.

Mai felt a tug on the back of her shirt, Gene was retreating backward and taking her with him. They inched slowly back down the hallway. She heard him laugh and resisted the urge to see his face and why he was laughing—now of all times.

He answered before she got the chance to ask. "I kind of see why the ghosts don't like to be recorded. It's eerie."

Mai smothered a laugh, perking at the same lavender scent tickling her nose. "Do you smell that?"

"Smell what?" he asked, interested. "I don't think smelling a ghost has been confirmed as a psychic ability, but as it is _you—"_

She shook her head. "Never mind." Distracting herself, Mai whispered, "Speaking of ghosts. What are you doing here? And _where have you been_?"

"Here and there," he replied drolly.

She sighed. "Liar."

"Says the girl who can't have one conversation without avoiding a question or giving a straight answer—"

The dream world turned to liquid at her feet before she could hear the rest. She slipped from his grasp and fell through the liquid flooring that could no longer bear her weight. Flailing her arms, she struggled feebly as the thick liquid landscape closed over her head, swallowing her whole. She didn't even have time for fear to seize her.

Like a water coloring painting that had been doused with water, all the colors of the spirit plane ran together and blurred into a dark-hued muck—until Mai realized that she was just seeing the back of her eyelids now.

She was awake—the dream world didn't have the same weight of reality in the waking world.

Squeezing her eyes twice, Mai blinked, trying to clear her vision. She was in her room in London.

Plain white walls. Sea foam colored bed sheets. A dark black shape perched on the side of her bed leaning over her.

Naru.

Scrambling, she pulled at the sheets trapped under his weight. "N–Naru—_what-are-you-doing-in-my-room_?" She railed off in rapid-fire Japanese as she tried to push herself upright.

Naru casually pulled at the collar of his sleep attire. "Gene was here," he said simply, but the expression on his face looked perturbed. Naru glared at the wall above Mai's head. Was he unwilling to look at her or…?

Mai took a risk and tried to comfort him, albeit in her own backwards way. "He was at rest, _I swear_." She shook her head, unwilling to think of the implications of Gene's return. "_I'm sure—_"

Naru's sharp tone cut her off. "That's not the problem, Mai. Gene can very well do what he wants." His dark hair fell haphazardly as he stared at his hands settled in his lap. The careless hair made Mai's heart rate rise or maybe it was the fact that Naru was here—in her room—alone. Not that it mattered. Lin was just outside in the living room, no doubt. Alone was more of an illusionary term in this matter.

Annoyance flickered in his eyes as Naru's cheek twitched. "He can do whatever he wants, all right," Naru practically growled. He looked up at the ceiling. _"Even dally on in the afterlife because he has nothing better to do than to haunt Mai."_ The tone of his voice grew deeper with each word becoming a stepping-stone to the next level of anger. "Go ahead, haunt _my_ _girlfriend_ in your afterlife. Idiot."

Mai paused, unsure of how to take in what Naru had just acknowledged—no, he _admitted it_—like he was confessing to a crime or having it tortured out of him.

Mai slapped at his arm. He finally looked down at her: brown hair in prime bed-head form, eyes glossy from having just woken up, but worst of all her cheeks were a brilliant red, and not from embarrassment. But from anger.

"_First of all, I. Am. Not. Your. Girlfriend. _That would mean that at some point you would have rallied the courage to have actually _asked me. _That makes us nothing as far as I'm concerned—coworkers, friends _maybe. _I'm closer to Lin-san! At least, he's cooked me breakfast since we've been here—"

Naru waved his hand dismissively at her. "Mai, you are missing the point._"_

She crossed her arms, and waited for him to explain, face set in sour expression.

"I sensed Gene."

She gave him a cool look. "And why is that so important?" She asked slowly.

Reining in his aggravation, Naru sighed. "You know that my kikou is unparalleled, at least, right? My abilities are off the charts." Mai nodded reluctantly, only because he was stating fact and not merely bragging. "Well, possessing this much power while theoretically amazing is also a handicap as you might have noticed had you bothered to pay attention, or bothered to ask," he sighed roughly. "Which I take you haven't bothered to think through at the blank expression of confusion on your face."

"Shut u—I mean, _go on,_" she said capriciously.

"Containing this much power _is_ a handicap, despite what some might think. Without Gene, I can't harness all the kikou I have because of how deep my reserves run. In that manner Dr. Brandt was quite right," he said sourly. "It took two of us to control that amount of power and we weren't able to do it for years. After successions of endless practicing. Because I contain this much power, I am equally blind to seeing other's power. It's like my power is like a wall that I can't see over because I possess too much of it already."

Mai's mouth parted dumbly. "I don't follow."

Naru scowled. "I sensed my brother, Mai. _I've never sensed anyone else—ever."_

* * *

"So Lin-san's _where?"_

"He left early this morning to go to my parent's in the countryside." Mai looked a little stricken. Naru pursed his lips. "I'm going to visit them soon enough if you're worried." He raised a challenging eyebrow. "Or are you feeling ill at the prospect of meeting my parents?"

Mai looked down at her hands, nonplussed. "Neither. It's not that." Nervously, she looked back up to him. Naru thought for a moment, trying to figure out why she was being so testy.

Suddenly smug, he aimed a salacious grin at her. "You're just worried that I might have tried something this morning when Lin wasn't around. You're so transparent." He chuckled to himself, closing his eyes at thought. His expression turned serious. "Grow up, Mai. If I wanted to do things like that I would have made Lin get a separate place."

Mai crossed her arms, complaining heatedly, "As if I'd let that happen."

"You couldn't resist me if you tried," he said evenly in an infuriatingly serious tone.

Mai scowled at him. "Think again, arrogant bastard." She gave a resounding 'hmph,' and looked out the window of the taxi the rest of the way.

The taxi cab driver looked back at them questioningly from the rear view mirror at Mai's suddenly raised voice in a quick-syllable'd, rapid-dash language. Not that he was unused to all the foreign tongues. After all, London was a center of worldly transportation and business.

It was a quick ride in the taxi—somewhat bumpy, and a little hair-raising as the driver wove down the tiny side streets at high speeds, but finally they arrived at S.P.R.'s building. Naru handed the driver some money with a quick acknowledgement in English to which the driver nodded gratefully.

Mai slid over the seat to Naru's side of the taxi as he got out—it was closer to the front door of S.P.R. Surprisingly, a hand appeared in front of her face. Apparently, Naru was offering her his hand. Mai looked at the hand warily as if it might bite her.

She stared quizzically at it until he suddenly pulled her up by her wrist and out of the taxi. "Come on," he prompted her.

She followed behind him, guardedly suspicious at the gallant behavior—Naru wasn't gallant, he was precision, and effectiveness. To her right, an old, drab-looking man in a ragged, brown three-piece suit scuffed his foot mournfully at the ground. A homeless man. Pity swelled in her chest as he observed them like he wanted to follow Naru and her as they entering the building. Mai watched him, and politely gave him a smile when he met her eyes. She even waved before Naru wrenched her inside.

Checking in was easier than the first time with Naru's guidance (read: bullying). She remembered her wallet and passport this time. Thank goodness for small favors.

The doors of the elevator chimed noisily behind them. They sat in silence for a moment, and Mai glanced over at Naru from the corner of her eye. He was watching her, a little more fervently that she had ever recalled.

"What?" she asked, half-turning.

"I was just thinking about this morning," he said thoughtfully. He pinched his chin between his forefinger and thumb. Mai's thoughts halted momentarily at his brief bout of honesty.

Tentatively worried, Mai slid a little closer to him, brushing up against his side in what she hoped was comforting. She put a hand on his arm and looked up at him hopefully. "Gene's always a pest," she started hesitantly. "But he'll be fine—"

"Not about Gene," he finished irritably.

Taken aback, she blurted, "Then what?"

He looked down at her with the beginnings of a curious grin. Mai pulled her hands off his jacket and held them up defensively. Unheeding, Naru leaned over the barrier of her hands and Mai shut her eyes, waiting for the worst—which was first a small brush of lips to her cheek, one at the corner of her eye and then one directly on the lips.

_Bull's-eye, _she thought a little reverently.

Warmth like the slow burn of coals lit where his lips formed against hers. He wasn't an expert kisser (then again neither was she), but he certainly had the right idea. Mai's hands stayed firmly at her sides as she quailed a little bit at the thought of actually kissing Naru. The occasions were just so uncommon, and rarely, did they start without provocation of a sort—_like Naru needing to prove a point. _

Without hesitation, or regret, Mai bit down lightly on Naru's lower lip, which was more than enough to get his attention, and probably felt a little less than pleasant. _He deserved it. _As he retreated, Mai pulled back, wiping her lip off with the back of her hand dramatically. She stared expectantly at him through narrow-slit eyes.

Naru was the opposite in countenance. As dark as she was with furrowed eyebrows and a telling scowl, he was light with teasing and a glint of approval in his eye.

"Told you," he said, almost grinning. The satisfaction in the line of his smile was maddening.

"Told me what!"

"You can't resist me."

Mai's tongue tripped over a quick response. "T-that was like throwing a pitch when the batter when he's blindfolded." Naru looked at her, trying to understand her meaning, but failing miserably.

Mai sighed. "It's a baseball reference. It means doing something when someone else isn't expecting it!"

"I know it's baseball," he said, annoyed again. That was better than him being the normal smug Naru.

Mai threw her hands up. "Ugh, how can you be this incredibly brilliant scientist, and yet not know the simplest sport's reference?"

"Incredibly brilliant, eh?" He said, ignoring the rest.

"Leave it alone," she said decisively. The elevator chimed again and when Mai made to leave in a rush, she was halted on the spot by her blouse being caught by something; Namely, between Naru's grubby little fingers. Not that she'd ever thought of his fingers as anything near unattractive before, but now she wasn't all benevolent towards him—or his constant need to be right.

He leaned forward and just as Gene had in her dream, he whispered in her ear, although the experience was altogether different. A pleasant sensation coiled in her stomach. "Don't let them show you up today, hm. My reputation's riding on you."

"Don't forget the code," he added as an afterthought. He gave her a gentle shove forward and Mai quickly half-glanced over her shoulder at him as the elevator doors slid shut soundly.

"Aggravating," she muttered aloud to herself, but she resolutely trudged into S.P.R.'s main lab.

More depressing than Naru's constant machinations was the day that Mai had to look forward to.

A day of testing with Dr. Brandt.

* * *

The lab hardly held the same serenity it had possessed only the day before. Whereas yesterday had been a calm, silent atmosphere, Mai could already hear the commotion swelling like a tidal wave from around the corner.

Timidly, Mai approached, deciding that she wouldn't show any signs of weakness to these strangers. Tilting her chin up, and setting her shoulders back, she sauntered over to the only illuminated testing grounds: the glass-encapsulated room. On the side closest to Mai, Corwin sat on a stool, heels hooked on the chairs rails while he watched the other two occupants in the room as though he was thoroughly entertained.

"—**can we just try this once more**—"

"—**it doesn't work like that, **_**how many times do I have to tell you**_—"

Mai watched two women battle it out, just as fervently interested as Corwin. Dr. Oehler, who was one of the verbal combatants, stood across from another unfamiliar woman who stood nearly half a head taller. Lanky, and tall, the posture of the strange woman Dr. Oehler was trying to talk to was rigid, and largely unfriendly.

Corwin's eyes lit up with some unknown mischief. "**Good morning, Taniyama**."

Mai merely glanced at him, nodded once and then looked back at the fight in one quick sweep. Corwin grinned widely at her perceived indifference.

The woman Mai didn't know was a force to be reckoned with, and not someone Mai would ever take lightly. Somewhere in her late 20's, the woman had no-nonsense, straight black hair was tied into a loose knot at the back of the her neck. High-set cheekbones, and a thin mouth rounded out her features into a heart-shaped face. And when she turned momentarily to see Mai, who had just arrived, Mai noticed her eyes were nearly the same jet-black hue. That mixed with her pasty skin and undisguised anger made her nearly demonic.

Her scorn only deepened as her eyes fixed on Mai before turning her attention back to Dr. Oehler who was still trying to reason with her.

"—**Clay said you've successfully used it before. We'd just like to test it ou**—"

"—**you'd trust a junkie's word**—**over **_**mine**_?" She pursed her lips angrily, crossing her arms in a defiant manner. She didn't seem to be the type that got loud and raucous when she was angry. Instead, her voice pitched lower with malice, unlike anyone she'd seen before. Bou-san and Ayako in their anger usually started to screech and get high-pitched as their fight escalated, but this woman got lower—sounding actually…dangerous. The distinction was clear and eye opening.

"_**Lennie,**_" Dr. Oehler scolded her.

So this was the famed anger of Lennie, the woman Corwin had spoken about yesterday—something about her having his head if he didn't run errands for her. Mai could now see why. The woman was frightening.

"_**Corwin, tell the kid to lock it up.**_" Lennie was addressing them this time, but Mai couldn't tell which of them she was talking to.

Corwin leaned over to Mai without taking his eyes off Lennie—much like how you'd watch a predator. "**You should tighten up, you know. Before**—"

Mai turned to him questioningly. "**Tighten what up**?"

Footsteps resonated on the floor causing Mai to look up. Above her and even Corwin, towered Lennie, her attention now solely focused on Mai. "_**Is that a challenge then?**_"

Mai's mouth dropped open, taken aback. _What's going on?_

"**Challenge—what, er—no,**" she tried to appeal to the woman.

"**Really? So why is it that when I tell you to cool it, you try to steamroll over me?" **

Mai blinked rapidly, trying to think her way out of this one. She was utterly confused as to what was going on. She looked around a little desperately for help. To her side Corwin sat with a hungry kind of expression on his face. Not a wanton one, but the kind of look that said he was clearly about to enjoy this catfight and Mai's misbegotten misery.

Mai exhaled sharply at his cruel expression in disbelief. She'd find no respite here, no middle ground. Hearing her disbelief, Corwin turned to her, and met her eyes. His malicious look shifted abruptly to something else, and then to guilt, something she easily recognized. Almost apologetically, he frowned and turned back to face Lennie. It looked like he wouldn't be helping any time soon.

"**Didn't that little bastard Oliver teach you any manners**?" Lennie leaned over into Mai's face, invading her space. The tension ratcheted up a notch, and Mai felt her blood pressure skyrocket as her own anger rose in tandem.

Leaning back slightly, Maid said stoutly, **"I have no idea what you're talking about." **ThenMai leaned a little closer to Lennie. "**So please get out of my face."**

Lennie's eyes widened slightly before she stood back, her shoulders firmly hunched. "**Watch your tongue, brat." **

At that, Mai merely frowned, no less angry. "**I can't understand what you're saying."**

"**Brilliant excuse,"** Lennie hissed through clenched teeth. She reached for Mai then, and before Mai could react, Lennie had her by the front of her shirt and once again, a violent shock rippled into her abdomen this time. Exaclty where Lennie touched her. Mai jolted back and stumbled into Corwin who had tried to move out of their way.

Lennie shook her hand out. "**What the hell?" **She muttered, incensed.

"**Nothing like a bit of shock therapy,"** Corwin joked, clearly displeased.

Just like with Naru, she had been shocked. This time though, the both of them had felt it, which wasn't like before when Naru had said that he hadn't felt anything.

In the background, Dr. Oehler stood watchful, waiting for the fallout, which, if things kept going this way, wouldn't be long.

Corwin quickly stood up, choosing the right moment to intervene which meant Lennie had to either move back or be pressed right up against him. She took that half step back, making room. Startlingly, Lennie was taller than Corwin by a few centimeters, but if that bothered the man, it certainly didn't show.

"**I'm no sure she's telling the truth either, Len, but hold a tick, will you? She wasn't lying about not being to understand you. She speaks English, all right, but just by the skin of her teeth. This is the new girl, Mai Taniyama."**

Lennie lifted an accusing eyebrow. **"Oliver's experiment."**

Corwin grimaced. **"Experiment is the wrong word, I think."** He shook his head.** "Anyhow, Japanese is her first language—**Right, Taniyama-chan? Oliver was right, your English really needs work." Mai's jaw dropped and she nearly screeched when he switched from English to a nearly flawless Japanese accent mid-sentence.

Gaping at him rudely, she poked a finger in his chest. "You speak Japanese! You—jerk! This would have made things so much easier!" Mai ground out.

He hesitated then gave her a half-smile. "You didn't ask," he pointed out.

Lennie looked less angry at the fight which had shifted to the other two. "**Excuse me—what the hell are you two saying?"**

Corwin's grin was all teeth. **"She's ecstatic that I can speak Japanese." **Mai bared her teeth.

"**I can tell," **Lennie crowed sarcastically. Mai huffed out an angry breath, preparing to tell them both exactly where to shove this debacle of a testing—

Lennie stiffened, and Corwin's own back went rigid simultaneously. Both looked at each other, seeming to share a similar train of thought. Slowly, they both turned to Mai. Judiciously, she took a step back and stared back at them plaintively.

Behind them, Dr. Oehler sauntered up, sensing that something had happened. "**You two—what is it?"**

Almost carefully, Corwin turned to Mai and said, "Are you doing that on purpose?"

Mai looked dumbfounded. "Doing what on purpose? I'm getting attacked for no reason! What are you talking about?" Corwin paused for a moment, seeming to take it all in.

Looking between the other two, he nodded his head towards the smallest of them, Mai. "**She really doesn't know what she's doing. And Lennie," **he said preemptively, "**Really, it doesn't sound like it's on purpose, but take it with a grain of salt, okay?"**

Mai looked hesistant as the others seemed to take her in with a watchful eye. They waited in silence for a few moments when Corwin suddenly inhaled sharply again, though the effect seemed lessened from the last two times.

"**See?" **Corwin said tightly when his spine seized again like lightening striking a metal rod.

Lennie's mouth parted slightly, unsure, but staring at Mai like she was a leper. "**What the hell?"**

Dr. Oehler looked anxious and pulled out her notepad. **"Well,"** she prompted.

Corwin began to speak before he was cut off by Mai tugging none-too-gently on his sleeve. She stared up at him fiercely. "Before you go telling them what exactly is going on, I believe that if it has to do with me, you should tell the source first—namely, me."

Considering it carefully, Corwin held up one solitary finger to the other two women.

He ran a hand through the short stems of his hair, drawing more attention to his pepper-colored locks.

"Your power is pulsing. It's very unusual."

"A pulse? What?"

He relayed the message to the other two, at which Lennie frowned almost imperceptibly and Dr. Oehler started scribbling furiously with a blank disinterest on her face.

Dr. Oehler tapped her pen against her lip. "**Could you describe that, Corwin? When did you notice it?"**

"**Right when I met her. Her powers were pulsing. Like the heat off an open wound**. What's the matter with you?"

Mai held her hands up, just as confused.

"A pulse. That's…strange," Mai offered, unsure of what to say.

Lennie peeked over at Dr. Oehler's notes. "**It seems to be subsiding right now—" **She eyed Mai unkindly. "—_**fortunately**_**,"** she said it like the word carried an unspoken threat, and maybe it did. Mai really didn't know what Lennie was capable of just yet.

Corwin flopped back onto the stool. **"Aw, Lennie's just pissed because Clay told her new bunkmate that they've slept together." **Corwin said as he craned his neck from side-to-side to pop the joints.

Mai barely caught the gist of what he was saying and recoiled embarrassedly, waiting for the backlash. He had said it in English because he was obviously trying to rile her. It didn't take long for Lennie to take the bait.

Striding up to him with a powerful gait, Lennie stood less than two inches from his face. Looking down at him and with her height advantage, she was even more menacing. "_**Stay the hell out of my head before I scramble your brain, asshole," **_she hissed.

Mai blanched, withdrawing further away from the two. Corwin seemed unaffected as Lennie brushed by him, knocking shoulders with him as she made her exit.

"What kind of powers does she have?" Mai asked warily, worried for her health.

Corwin shook his head. "A fair few, though she doesn't have quite the cocktail I hear you possess," he said suggestively.

Mai looked away, head tilting down abashedly. "Why does everyone keep saying that likes its strange?" She looked up at him, waving her hands in dismissal. "That was a rhetorical question. But you aren't going to tell me her powers, I take it?"

Corwin juggled the thought for a moment. "Unfortunately, that's Lennie's business and it's up to her if she wants to tell you."

"Everyone here knows what I have," Mai argued.

Corwin grinned brightly. "A winning personality," he guessed.

Mai tucked her chin to her shoulder, suddenly nostalgic. "Your worse than my Bou-san."

"A paramour?"

Mai stuck her tongue out. "That's none of your business."

Corwin seemed amused by her childish antics. Like he hadn't seen something like it in a while. Just how old was he? "I must have been wrong about you. I thought for sure Oliver was your man."

Knowing she was transparent, Mai quickly diverted. "Do I have to worry about that girl—Lennie—using said _unknown_ powers on me?"

Corwin shrugged, and wiggled his fingers. "Possibly, but you noticed how I was baiting her, right? Lennie's a psychosomatic, I'll tell you that much." Mai stared hopelessly at him. "A psychosomatic—unlike most other psychics who can use some form of emotion to harness their ability, Lennie can't separate her mind from her body, they have to be in sync. Emotions wreck her control. She has to be calm in order to use her abilities. Otherwise, she's useless."

Mai raised her eyebrows. "I've never heard that before."

Corwin gave a thinly veiled grin. "Doubtless, you'll be hearing a lot more of things like that now that you're here."

"Rude…" Mai said vaguely.

"**Mai, would you come over here?" **Dr. Oehler called from the stainless steel medical area.

A door shutting to her left heralded Dr. Brandt's arrival. "**Perfect timing," **Dr. Oehler said.

She turned back to Mai. Her tone was conversational and unlike the rigid manner Mai had been expecting. It caught her off guard and thus more vulnerable to being unable to divert from certain questions Mai wouldn't want to answer in the near future.

Dr. Oehler slid her clipboard off the table and into her hands. "**Now,** **your report says you have an ability to sense danger. Would you care to describe to us how that works**?"

* * *

The _only_ thing that Mai was grateful for during her testing was that she was in halfway across the globe in London—and far away from the comforts of home, her friends, and onigiri (something she still mourned). She was dealing with all these losses in stride; in fact, she was happy to be testing in London, if only to escape the teasing and mockery that S.P.R.'s irregulars would be giving her relentlessly right about now if they could see her.

Several wires were attached to sticky little electric pads, the ends of which were then adhered to her head, neck and chest. She looked like a poorly aimed game of pin-the-tail on the donkey. The wires ran down her side and hooked running into three different machines, none of which Mai had any clue what they did. All three machines were placed on a rolling stainless steel cart next to her chair.

Mai sighed wearily. At least, Ayako, Takigawa and Yasuhara weren't here to see this. The torment would never end.

Dr. Brandt jerked his head towards another room, motioning for Mai to follow. "**Mai—"**

"**Call me Taniyama, please," **Mai said primly, distinctly imitating Masako's mannerisms. Mai was mildly impressed with herself for doing such a spot-on imitating, _if I don't say so myself,_ she mentally congratulated.

Dr. Brandt's lips thinned into a severe line. "**Taniyama, here. Now." **He pointed to a spot in the second of the three testing rooms: the padded cell that had been vacated of the stacked boxes and apparently cleaned out.

Dr. Oehler, who had disappeared while Dr. Brandt had been applying all the mechanical attachments, came from the elevators with a more composed looking Lennie trailing behind her.

Lennie looked up at Mai, carefully indifferent as the younger girl trudged over to padded area carefully towing her cords and machines behind her. Standing in the room, currently feeling like she resembled more of a robot than a human, Mai looked around pitiably for compassion.

All she found was a bored-seeming Corwin, twisting and turning one of those Rubix cube toys. He was probably bored because he wasn't any good at it. Feeling her stare, he looked up and snorted playfully.

"I wish I had my camera," he said, trying to muffle his laughter behind his curled fist.

Mai gave him a stepford smile. "I wish I had P.K. powers to pummel you into tiny little pieces," she said just as cheerfully.

Corwin sobered minutely. "It's not that bad. We've all done similar tests like this."

"You've all been guinea pigs for a trial demonstration of each other's powers?" She asked disbelievingly.

He tilted his head to the side, clearly uncertain. "Well, no. But," he countered quickly, "this is only non-lethal testing. It can't be that bad."

Mai frowned. "I'm very reassured," she said depreciatively.

"Hey, trust me."

"Not happening." Corwin looked offended at her statement, a hurt look on his face. It faded just as quickly. Mai was quickly learning Corwin's mood were slippery like quicksilver, fading quickly into one another without warning.

"Well, then. Trust your friend, Oliver. I doubt he'd leave you at the mercies of Dr. Brandt knowing you could be put at risk. Doesn't sound like him."

Mai grimaced. "Please don't say it like that. Being at his tender mercies would be…horrifying."

Mai had wanted to continue the conversation if only to escape the rest of the testing, but Dr. Oehler stood in front of her, making a last check on the equipment.

Through her prescription glasses, Mai noticed her eyes were magnified. The doctor looked like she had some bad vision.

Mai leaned around Dr. Oehler to see Corwin. "What exactly are they testing?" When she heard her voice, she realized that she sounded a little panicked. And it wasn't like she liked Corwin that much, but right now he was her only lifeline. The more nervous she got, the less English she seemed to remember.

He shrugged. "I'm not so sure myself."

Mai rolled her eyes. _"Can you ask?" _Dr. Oehler readjusted a wire that Mai had pulled out when she had walked over to the new testing area.

"Was there a please in there?"

"Please."

"No, it's about to begin anyway. Buck up." Mai looked up annoyedly at Dr. Oehler who insisted on being in the way of her conversation.

"**Clip this on, please." **Dr. Oehler said handing her a small device. Mai stared at it before looking back up at Dr. Oehler, clueless. The doctor held up her index finger, then clipped it on the end of Mai's finger. "**It's to monitor your heart rate. Nothing serious."**

Mai blanched. _Why would they need to monitor my heart rate?_

The doctor, unfazed by the look, or not having seen it, finished up her tuning and gave one last wire a tug before wandering back to Dr. Brandt's side.

He looked decidedly calm, unlike Mai. "**Camera one online**?"

"**Yes**," Dr. Oehler affirmed.

"**Camera two."** Mai glanced over at Lennie who was standing on the opposite side of the room, quiet and brooding as she sat on the stool. She had one knee tucked close to her chest while her other leg dangled off the side of the chair with a devil-may-care expression on her face.

Lennie observed her equally as scrupulous. "**Nervous?**"

Dr. Oehler's voice became background noise as she ran over the preliminary checks. "**Online**."

"**No.**" Mai said, unwilling to show what could be construed as weakness. Naru had asked her to not be undermined, after all.

"**Audio**?" Dr. Brandt listed off.

"**Check." **Dr. Oehler said.

"**Liar," **Lennie crowed. The jet-black haired woman eyed Mai abrasively, then looked away. "**But it's okay. I can appreciate that."**

The two didn't exchange any other words.

"**Heat sensors."**

"**Ready."**

"**All right, we're good-to-go. Lennie, we're looking for some data on manipulation and suggestion. It has been supported by a colleague of yours that you are capable of manipulated coercion. Let's have a demonstration." **Dr. Brandt's echoed from a speaker as he was speaking into a microphone even though he was a mere 10 feet away. Mai supposed it was because they were set behind a protective sheet of Plexiglass.

Corwin, on the other hand, was out in the open, standing just behind and to the right of Lennie, his hands tucked into his pockets. The Rubix cube was gone. Presently, he was rocking back and forth on his toes as if riding out the anticipation—for what, Mai wasn't sure.

"**Ready?" **Lennie called across the way.

Mai nodded sharply, not wanting to speak in case her voice would shake.

Lennie, suddenly looking nervous, glanced at the two doctors. "**Do you have any suggestions in mind for what I should ask**? **Limits?**"

"**No restrictions here,"** Dr. Brandt said quickly. "**No bodily harm,**" he amended.

"**No lasting damage of any kind, I would think: mental or physical. Something relatively inane would suffice," **Dr. Oehler added.

"**Make her bark like a seal, Len."**

"**You're creativeness is truly unrivaled, Corwin." **Lennie drawled in disdain.

"**Genius takes time," **he said easily.

Mai shot him a withering look.

"**Order her to astral walk. Getting two birds with one stone would be better." **The familiar and grating voice cheered Mai up to her annoyance. Naru came gliding across the floor of the main lab, distinctly confident like he belonged there.

Her happiness abated at the same time while she considered the brief urge to strangle him for suggesting they eject (a roughly used term) Mai's spirit out of her body.

"I'm so glad you made it," she drawled caustically.

Naru strolled around the side of the padded floor to quietly address Dr. Brandt and Dr. Oehler. Dr. Brandt was a combination of emotions Mai couldn't unravel. Dr. Oehler looked between the two powerhouses quickly bantering back and forth in some undisclosed argument. The exchange was quickly over as Naru walked over to join her on the padded floor.

"I thought you weren't allowed to come," she said from the corner of her mouth.

"Not hardly. I'm not allowed any access to files currently either."

"You were bored," she guessed.

Naru didn't answer, only said, "Miss me?" Mai didn't even get angry as the words he said to her were again _exactly what Gene had said in the dream _earlier that morning.

Staring fixedly at a spot on the floor, Mai said, "Naru, remind me to talk to you about something."

That perked his attention. "Now?"

"Later, obviously," she said, chagrinned.

"**Ah**, **Oliver, we brought Corwin in for that part. If you'd like to remain with us on the perimeter,**" Dr. Oehler suggested.

Dr. Brandt took hold of the swiveling microphone. "**Nonsense. Oliver, you'll be the safety net," **Dr. Brandt prattled on, monotone as ever, "**Begin."**

"**Just start small, Lennie," **Naru instructed. It struck Mai as weird to see Naru speaking in such a coaching manner. _And what exactly did they mean when they said he would act as a safety net?_

"**You're not worried I'll hurt you?" **Lennie said, cocking a hand on her hip.

Naru half-smirked. "**Do your best. Or worst, if you'd prefer."**

Lennie pursed her lips. "**Game on." **

She took a deep breath and slid off the stool, standing sleekly all in one motion. She lifted her arms with another breath and then resettled them at her side, striking Mai as an oddly ballerina-like thing to do. When she opened her eyes, she looked perfectly calm, exceptionally placid—just as Corwin had said.

"She's a psychosomatic," Naru said suddenly.

"I know," Mai quipped.

Her comment prompted Naru to actually glance over at her. "Oh? Then you know what it means?" It was a leading question. Mai took her own deep breath, and shook her head, still giving most of her focus to Lennie—the potential danger. Naru continued, "It means balance of the mind and body."

"Good to know," Mai said chipperly, disguising her nerves.

"**You, walk over here,"** Lennie ordered.

Mai waited for the overwhelming urge to follow Lennie's command.

Nothing happened.

Mai looked to Naru after a minute. "Is anything supposed to happen?"

Naru almost smiled. "One would think so." To Lennie, he said, "**Try again. A little more force behind it."**

Lennie's lip twitched, but she nodded. She sucked in another breath, then tried again. "**Come over here—Now, child."**

The force in her voice actually made Mai's stomach twist in anticipation. There was no way something like that should fail.

But again, nothing happened.

Lennie growled, annoyed and looked over at the two doctors. "**I told you not to take Clay's claim seriously. It doesn't work like that," **she argued ardently.

Dr. Brandt did seem visibly disappointed. "**Well then, let's try something more familiar. Lennie, let's bring the temperature down, if you don't mind. Show Oliver and Taniyama some of the progress in studies we've made." **Lennie nodded.

Mai looked quickly to Naru for an answer. He merely shrugged, and said, "Just wait and see."

"You're not worried?" Mai said, vocalizing her fear.

Naru took his eyes off Lennie then. "You're with me, and you're worried?"

Mai tried to rally around that thought, though she hated the unrelenting trust the simple statement showed she had for him.

The air around Lennie seemed different suddenly and Mai couldn't put her finger on the change right away. She knew that when psychics, or at least when Naru used his power, or when ghosts appeared, the temperature in the room would drop. _Is that what they meant by Lennie? Hadn't Lin mentioned that Naru was the only P.K. user in the facility? Had they lied?_ Mai didn't think so, but she didn't know for certain.

Suddenly leery of being struck down by an unseen force, she slid a little closer to Naru. He noticed, but only quirked an eyebrow as his reaction.

"Just a little morale booster," Mai said.

A chill broke out of Mai's skin like she'd suddenly been doused in arctic water. The air around them seemed thick and heavy. Mai sucked in a breath of air, and coughed when it hurt to even breathe in the frigid air. Next to her, Naru exhaled calmly, releasing little clouds of air.

Mai shivered hard enough that her teeth clacked together audibly. Freezing, she tried to rub at her arms, but her muscles were stiff with cold and the feelings in her fingers had fled. Wracked with another round of shivers, Mai saw a white flare burst in her vision and the room disappeared behind it. A torrent of heat lit through her veins, burning her from the inside in an uncomfortably hot surge. Her heart started to pound in her chest, oddly quick, as everything else had slowed down immensely from the cold. A loud mechanical beeping tone rung out in her ears in rapid succession in time with her heart.

As the sensation in her veins began to burn hotter to the point of pain, Mai felt her knees shake and her legs folded underneath her, unbalancing her as she tipped over. Her heart pounded in her chest, triply faster than she'd ever recalled it going.

She idly thought, _watch out for the cart_, but as her vision had burst into another piercing flash of white, she couldn't even know which direction the cart was in.

Even that didn't bother her as she was catapulted into the endless oblivion of white.

* * *

The couches of the retirement room turned out to be softer than they looked. And now Mai knew why they called it such. After bad experiments such as that, the subjects needed somewhere to go and rest—or to calm down as Corwin had explained it.

As Mai sat with a cold compress over her forehead to fight her sudden fever, Corwin was fetching her some more water.

"How soon can I leave?" Mai groaned miserably.

Corwin gave some non-committal shrug, only to remember she couldn't see him with the compress covering her eyes. "Whenever Oliver comes back. He seemed pretty upset though. Pretty worried about you, I would guess."

Mai snorted. "He's not worried, he's mad. Naru doesn't _worry_ about things," Mai explained though she sounded like she had a bad cold. She was only pinching her nose. She waved her hand around in the air as if trying to deliberate her next thought. "To understand Naru, you need to understand his," she paused to search for the appropriate word, "objection to not being able to understand or comprehend everything…_even before its possible to know what's going to happen."_

Corwin offered her the water by putting her hand to the glass.

Mai thanked him. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Oliver can explain it better, I'm sure," Corwin speculated.

Mai actually gave him a real smile. "Without a doubt." She seemed to take real pride in the thought that Naru was unquestionably one of the best in his field.

Mai tried to scratch the back of her hand, and was annoyed at once at the thick layers of cotton gauze layered on her hand. Mai lifted the compress of her eyes to look over at Corwin. "And why is my hand bandaged?"

Corwin gave her a depreciative smile. "Again, I think it's better to ask Naru."

Mai tried to pin his elusive answers down. "Have you ever heard of giving a straight answer?"

Corwin merely closed his eyes with a laugh of derision trickling off his lips. "Have you ever heard of avoiding a problematic question?" He countered.

The door swung open before either could get in another barb. Naru stood in the doorway, unaffected as usual. With a tilt of his head, she knew he wanted her to follow. Mai swung her feet off the couch and slid her shoes back on.

She thanked Corwin for the compress and dropped it in his lap rather callously—deservingly so in Mai's eyes, seeing as he hadn't told her what she wanted to know before Naru came.

Mai met Naru by the door. He appraised her slowly. "You seem healthy enough. Caused enough trouble for the day?"

Mai nodded. "Filled my quota, I think, and then some."

Naru turned to head out the door without acknowledging Corwin, Naru's normal deliberate snub. "Lin's waiting for us in the lobby. Let's not waste anymore time."

Mai trailed closely behind him down the hall until they'd almost reached the receiving area when she bumped her nose hard into his back. He had suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway.

She rubbed her smarting nose. "Ow, Naru," she complained.

He half-turned to her, seeming to study her for a moment. Achingly slow, he asked, "You're all right?" He, of course, was referring to her overall state as she _had_ just fainted during a brief test.

"I was before you hurt my nose," she said tartly. Unsure if she would answer any further, Naru and Mai continued to the lobby, taking the elevator down. Before they reached the lobby, Mai heard a distinct buzzing sound. It seemed to be coming from Naru.

She poked his side at which he flinched more than usual. _Sensitive much?_

"Sorry, it's just—I think your phone's ringing. Someone's actually calling you!" She teased jovially. She must have been feeling better.

Naru fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. His expression darkened. "Who is it?" Mai prodded.

Naru considered something for a moment before he held out his phone to her. He hit the send button, answering it. She stood unmoving for a few seconds.

Naru thrust the phone at her. "Well, say hello before I regret letting you use my international minutes."

Mai jumped, snapping of the phone to cradle it against her ear. "Hello?"

"Mai-chan!" The man on the other end of the line bellowed.

"Bou-san!" she said, equally as elated. "What are you doing calling Naru's cell phone? And how did you get his number?" She asked the latter more accusingly.

"I'm calling for you, of course. I want to see how you're doing. You're in a country with a strange man, I'm worried about you."

"He's not a stranger, Bou-san," she sighed.

"Well, he is a man, and that's dangerous in itself," he said menacingly. Mai briefly thought about this morning and unfortunately, had to agree. She didn't share these sentiments with Takigawa though as he would have overreacted. He was already _overreacting_ and she hadn't even said anything.

Naru was pretending he wasn't listening to their conversation, but Mai had seen him look over when she had told Takigawa that Naru wasn't a stranger. He was eavesdropping, all right, but at least he had the grace to not be obvious about it.

"Well, everything's going fine." Naru looked at her here like she'd said something funny—like she hadn't just passed out. She put a hand over the mouthpiece. "Shut up."

The doors slid open and they stepped out together. Naru shook his head at her and spotted Lin on the far side of the lobby.

Lin looked appraisingly at Mai's bandaged hand as she approached. She slid a scathing glance at Naru. "They won't tell me what happened."

Lin's eyebrows creased the skin of his forehead as he frowned.

Naru shook his head. "Later. Let's go." Naru casually wrapped his hand around Mai's bicep in what looked like he was politely escorting her. In reality, he was dragging her along faster.

"Mai!" Takigawa shrilled over the phone.

Mai winced. "Sorry, got distracted. What's new?"

"You didn't hear my news the first time! It doesn't have quite the same impact when you have to say it again," he said mournfully.

The front doors of the lobby slid open.

"What is it—"

They'd barely made it out the door when a brilliant flash flared in front of their eyes. Mai thought she was having a relapse.

"—coming—London—" Mai barely caught Takigawa saying. Another flash corrected her. It was a camera.

A man with a camera stepped forward, a pad of paper and a pen in his hand. _A reporter. _

"**Can Haunt Weekly get a quote **—"

_A tabloid? What in the world?_

Mai couldn't hear the stranger anymore as Takigawa started yelling in her ear again.

"_Did you hear me! I said—"_

"You're coming to London," Mai finished for him. Back going rigid again, Mai blinked slowly.

"Wait—_You're __**what**__?"_

_

* * *

_

A longer chapter to make up for last time's shorter one.

Things are quickly going to get a little more complicated, no?

* * *

_Next: Chapter 5: [Im]possibilites_


	6. ImPossibilities

**History of War**

_Chapter 5: [Im]Possibilities_

* * *

5.22.10

* * *

AN: This should have been two chapters, as it's about 12,000 words, and a lot happens, but I held out on you guys long enough. Soooo here you go! Enjoy.

* * *

The London Underground was much like the Tokyo Subway. It was fast, efficient, underground (obviously—though some parts apparently travelled above ground as well), and people were loaded on and off quickly like herds of cattle.

The only difference was the Underground at its deepest part was about 30 meters deeper than Tokyo's deepest Subway station. Mai just hoped this wasn't the day she remembered as 'the day I discovered I was claustrophobic.'

The familiar rocking of a train on the tracks was a comforting sensation, reminding her of the train rides she took on her way to work, and to school. The flickering of lights was absolutely _not a comforting memory._ It reminded her of all the cases gone awry where ghosts caused electric-powered equipment to go crazy and then they most likely winded up attacking her. Not an encouraging memory.

Across the train, Naru sat opposite her in the near empty cabin. Only two other people were in the same cabin as them, but they were far enough away and Mai guessed that they didn't look to be the type of people to have a command of the Japanese language off-chance.

Running her hands through her hair, she tried to distract herself by checking for split ends. It got old quickly after she realized that she desperately needed a haircut because of the rampant frazzled edges of her hair. It was probably all of the stress in her life…_naw._

Accustomed to the silence, Mai wished that Lin was here, so that at least he could break the monotony with a moody stare or something, but Naru had left him behind as bait for the reporter. 'A distraction' he called it. Mai had called him on out it.

'_Say it like it is. You just _sacrificed _him to the wolves. Remind me not to trust you with my—'_

'_Your what?'_

_Mai swallowed. _

She had been about to say 'Remind me not to trust you with my firstborn' as a joke, but looking back on the circumstances (she was sort of dating him, after all), she was glad she hadn't…only the curious smirk on Naru's face meant he either knew what she'd been about to say, or was feigning that he had. Either way, heat flooded her cheeks in a rush of pink.

Sighing loudly, she picked up a stray bottle cap from the seat next to her and tossed it at Naru. It bounced off his chest and settled in his lap.

Looking vaguely annoyed, he brushed off the cap and looked up at her. "Use your words, Mai."

Scowling, Mai tilted her head, assessing him. "I already did! You won't say how that reporter knew you? And don't bother lying to me. He _did know you_."

"He used to work for S.P.R., in the lab actually." Mai's jaw dropped.

Unprepared for such a quick and honest response—it was _Naru, _after all—Mai hadn't prepared any questions to follow up with. So she just blurted out what she was thinking to fill the silence.

"He worked for the company?" she said without much though, repeating his words back. _Stupid! _

Naru looked at his nail, apparently more interested in the state of his cuticles than a conversation with her. "I believe I just said that."

Baffled, Mai tried to counter, "I know. I meant, _why_—_what_ exactly did he do for S.P.R? _He's not a psychic, is he?"_

Naru actually laughed at the idea, reclining into the train's seats as it rattled along the tracks. "He's not a psychic. Or even a sensitive. He's a researcher, microbiology was his specialty, but we cut that portion of the department due to funding issues. Mackenzie had the same background in education, so we just doubled up her work load. She does the work of two."

Mai frowned. "Mackenzie?"

"Dr. Oehler," Naru clarified.

"Oh. What's his name?"

"Wesley Hasbrouck." Naru closed his eyes and swayed as the train bumped along. "He wasn't making that much anyway. S.P.R. is a private company. The income is meager, some even unpaid. All of our research is subsidized from private funders. Namely, all the people on the board of directors."

Mai faltered. "Doesn't our S.P.R. bring in any money? And I'm sure Madoka-san's division brings in some money," she said defensively.

Naru cracked open an eye to look at her. "Have you ever looked at our finances? Our accounts payable balanced against accounts receivable? Madoka barely brings in enough revenue to keep her own division above water." Well, that was news to Mai. But it was to be expected. Naru wasn't exactly known for sharing information, private or otherwise.

"And ours?" Mai asked weakly. The train squealed as it slid to a jarring stop at one of the exits and they mometarily stopped talking, waiting as a man and woman walked between them to get off the train.

Mai's patience in waiting for answers was ebbing. Naru waited for the train to start moving before he spoke again. The cabin was empty except for them and one older woman. "We've been in the red consistently since Lin and I moved to Japan. We knew that going into it. S.P.R.'s Shibuya counterpart was merely a way to finance a meager living while I searched for Gene and even then London's S.P.R. covered the difference." He said it indifferently, but Mai could tell inside he really was disgusted with the thought of living so completely supported without providing for himself. "The Society funded our little endeavor because my parents are the owners."

Reeling, Mai tried to rally her thoughts. Before then Mai wouldn't have guessed that S.P.R. had been flat-broke. "Then why don't you take on more cases! Why do your parents let you do that?" Her voice wavered.

Naru shrugged. "Even with the rates we charge, there is no way the cases would have been enough to clear the expenses. We had two home office employees, two freeloaders whom I paid fulltime rates." He looked meaningfully at Mai, "and four part-timers who were useless at the best of times. My parents paid for everything."

Mai gaped openly.

Naru closed his eyes again and smiled momentarily. "They humor me. I'm their only son left now, after all."

Mai was quiet for a moment. The mention of Gene always felt like clouds were gathering, a somber reminder of the rain waiting just over their heads, ready to fall at any moment. She didn't know how she'd blindly steered the conversation towards this. Immediately, she felt like she had to apologize.

"Don't," was all he said. He always seemed to know what she was thinking and Mai wondered more than once if it was because of his abilities or because he knew her so well. Both were more than a little disconcerting. "I know what you're going to say, and don't. Gene is dead. I know that. My parents know it. You know it." He folded his fingers thoughtfully. "Don't apologize for death, Mai. It won't reciprocate the sentiment."

Mai sniffed, trying to block the sudden tears. Simple words wouldn't abate the guilt she felt. "I wasn't apologizing for him being dead," she replied bleakly. She looked down to the end of the train, away from Naru, for anything else to look at instead of the identical face of the most difficult twins ever humanly designed.

"I know." Two small words of understanding were enough to threaten to bring down Mai's feeble house of emotional stability. Swallowing hard, she fought back the tears. Gene didn't need them, and he would laugh at her wasting her time.

The lights flickered again, and the familiar feeling of dread washed away everything else as it crawled up her spine. "Naru," she breathed.

"I know."

Irritated, Mai glanced at him, wiping at the undersides of her eyes tellingly. "No, Naru, something's going on."

Naru glared at her peevishly. "That's what I was saying. Do you feel that?" Mai knew he meant 'do you sense anything,' but his choice of wording made her pause. Normally, he'd ask her what she alone was sensing.

The way he'd said it made her think _he was feeling it too._ The train that was slowing again but without a station in sight.

"We're stopping in the tunnel," he noted nonchalantly. Mai balked at his calm indifference.

Mai's gaze flickered around the cabin. "You're sensing something again? I'm not picking up anything at all." She said slowly without looking at him. "That's not _good_ right?"

Naru was doing the same, scanning the cabin for any signs of the supernatural. Anything to explain the hair standing up on his forearms.

"It's…_ probably_ not a good sign when I can sense things that you can't." Naru remarked dryly. "But that's a given at any time."

Mai shuddered. "It's bizarre. Why is everything so backwards here?"

The train jostled one last time, grinding to a halt to idle in one of tunnels that was who-knows-how-deep under the heart of London. Heart starting to pick up speed, Mai just hoped that the train would get underway again soon—_otherwise,_ Naru was going to get testy and then she would have to deal with that fallout as well as with whatever was going on right now.

"That's strange..." Naru said, tone measured.

Mai perked up. She unclenched her hands from the edge of the seat, trying to relax as tension ratcheted up her back. "What's strange?" She asked, acting composed. "Don't say leading things like that. You make people worry," she scolded.

Naru had a strange expression on his face, an unusual curiosity that meant he was both worried and unsure of something as well as intrigued, which was always, _always _dangerous.

Naru cold eyes met her own, narrowing. "I'm still picking up some signature, yet you say you can't sense it at all."

Mai could have heard a pin drop when she stopped breathing.

"What?" Mai said mouth dry. "There's something _here_?"

A high-pitched squeak came from the P.A. system before the conductor began announcing. The sound rang mechanically through the train's cabin. "Sorry about the inconvenience. We're experiencing glitch in the computers and it needs to be reset." Static marred the message. "In –order to—to restart the train's computer – shut the train down. We'll be…up and running again in about a minute and a half. Again, we apologize for the inconvenience." A crackle of static echoed through the speakers as the conductor shut it off once more.

The electricity in the wires hummed loudly and then abruptly were silent as the power was cut.

"Wait, wait, wait—" Mai said piteously.

The lights above them went black and darkness settled over the cabin except for the dim yellow lights of the tunnel shining faintly through the windows.

"I hate small, dark spaces," she murmured.

"This is dark, not small. And you're not claustrophobic," Naru pointed out optimistically.

Mai considered it thoughtfully. "I was just thinking about that, actually. I was wondering if there's a possibility of late onset for that kind of thing," Mai said quietly. She tried to scowl at him for reading her mind, but she could barely see the tip of his nose, so there was no way he could make out her full expression. Then again his night vision was also freakishly better than hers. Just in case, she stuck out her tongue at him. Nothing. Obviously, he couldn't see any better than her.

"You can always sit next to me if you're nervous," he offered with a quirk of his brow.

Mai wiggled her toes in her boots. "No thanks," she replied quickly.

"Should I be offended?" He sounded amused which given his confusion earlier was a good sign.

Mai hesitated, half-joking, half in earnest. "Maybe. No. Well, yes. I guess you should be."

Naru scoffed. "You're more afraid of me…than of the dark," he said in disbelief. Shifting gear, he began, "You know though, traumatic events are known causes of phobias. Who knows? Maybe this _will_ be the onset of your claustrophobia."

"Shut up."

There was a dull crack, the sound of metal settling made Mai jump and clench the seat. At least Naru couldn't see that.

"Hasn't it already been two minutes…?" she moaned.

"More like 45 seconds. Show some patience."

Mai raised her bandaged left hand and waved it in front of him. "While we have the time, why don't you tell me what this is from?"

"It's a burn."

"I can feel that part. _How did I get burned?"_

Naru shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe later. Now is not such a good time." Mai frowned, defeated.

A hollow sound rang out on the sides of the train. "What was that?" she said apprehensively.

"It was nothing. You're rambling," he said.

"I'm nervous! Noises like that aren't normal," she explained waspishly.

"Yes, they are," he replied condescendingly. "Metal expands with heat and compacts in cold. The engine isn't running and therefore, isn't creating heat. The train's losing heat, getting colder. It's just the shifting temperatures causing the metal to make noise."

"That quickly?" Mai said doubtfully.

In the dark, Naru looked unsure. "Probably not. I'm just telling this to make you feel better."

"It doesn't work when you tell the person that." Mai regarded him sullenly. "You're doing a terrible job. My instincts said something was wrong. It usually doesn't just disappear like that."

The metal groaned again. "Okay, that's not normal," she remarked. Mai waited for Naru to explain that one away as well, but her eyesight was beginning to adjust to the dark. He didn't look so assured suddenly.

"Agreed," he said placidly.

Gray hues resembling smoke started curling up from underneath the train's door on their far right. Decidedly not natural.

"That's not the train, you mean. Like the train starting up," Mai said hopefully. "Naru!" She said in a high pitch when he didn't answer right away.

"Not the train," he confirmed. He looked away from the door, and stared fixedly at Mai, "You talk a lot when you're nervous."

Mai tried to smile. "Bad habit, I'll work on that—_later._"

Stiltedly, Mai rose from her seat and crossed the middle of the train in two hops to sit next to Naru.

"Change your mind?" He asked.

Leaning to look around him, she glanced worriedly at the fog their breaths were starting to make. Temperatures lowering. Psychics were on edge. Spirits were present. Peachy. "We should have taken a taxi."

Naru nodded once, but was watching the far side of the cabin rather intently. "For once, you're correct."

Mai followed his gaze. The haze of gray smoke materialized on this side of the door in their cabin and the form of a tattered man emerged stepping out of the fog right next to the old woman. Mai made to stand, but Naru pressed her back into the seat firmly.

"_We can't just leave her,_" she hissed.

Naru glared right back at her. "He's going right past her." Achingly slow, the ghost did just as Naru said, walking around the old woman like he couldn't see her. Mai's clenched muscles loosened minutely. The woman ignored him equally even when his ghostly form lit up the darkness near her. Clearly, she hadn't noticed anything.

Mai gaped then realized what had happened. "She's not a sensitive."

"Spirits tend to leave the nulls alone. In that regard, as blind as the nulls are to them, the spirits are sometimes just as blind to humans." In Naru-speak, null meant normal people—the non-psychic, non-sensitives, but she had never heard this theory. Somehow, it seemed like it _should_ make sense, but Mai couldn't wrap her mind around the idea. She'd ask Naru to explain it to her more clearly later.

"So the metal was creaking because the temperature was dropping rapidly…because there was a spirit," Mai said aloud.

"Spir_its_," Naru corrected.

Mai sunk further into her seat. "Spirits? Plural...how?"

"How and why can be figure out later. More importantly—"

He motioned across her towards the other side of the cabin. In one of the seats, a hazy blue old man sat watching them with white eyes fixedly. They could see him. He could clearly see them. They wouldn't be so lucky as the old woman on the far side of the train. There was no ignoring the elephant –or in this case, powerful psychic—in the room.

Both spirits were eying them with something short of a hungry look. "What's going on?"

Naru didn't say anything, which meant that he didn't have even a vague clue as to what was happening either. A recipe for disaster when the resident genius was short on ideas.

Mai's gaze flickered between the two ends of the train. The elder man on the right flickered out of sight and then back into existence a couple meters closer. Close enough that the hair on Mai's arm stood on edge. He was standing only three seats away.

Without bothering to explain her sudden anxiety, Mai slid closer to Naru.

Both were closing in slowly, the movement of molasses in their limbs, but Mai's stomach dropped further when she felt Naru go rigid. Naru wasn't one to show any sort of fear or trepidation, so for him to react…it wasn't an encouraging sign in any manner.

In front of them, from the window where Mai had just been sitting, another ghost appeared, rolling his head up through the window. He was smaller ghost, in his teens most likely, and glaring at them like in an angry, petulant fashion. A dull gloss in his eyes showed his plain ennui, like he was searching them out, only due to pure boredom. What was the saying her mother used to tell her? Boredom breeds bad behavior? If that was indeed the case, trouble was on the way.

"What should we do?" She said exceptionally calm considering that the ghost across from them was sliding through the window like a snake, his ghostly hands gripping the edge of the seat in front of them.

"Stop talking?" Naru suggested starkly.

"_Other_ than that."

The dark cabin was barely lit from the eerie radiance emanating from the spirits' corporeal forms. The only sound she could hear apart from the drone of electricity from the tunnel's walls was her own breathing and the heartbeat pounding in her ears like an ever-growing roar.

"You could try falling asleep…"

It took Mai a second to realize he was making a joke. She stifled a half-laugh, and smacked him on the chest with the back of her hand.

"Jerk." He caught her gauze covered hand and held it for a moment before letting it drop back down.

"Just a thought," he said in a light tone. His expression sobered. "Don't move," he said suddenly serious.

The urge to close her eyes, and just pray for them to disappear was strong. If her abilities weren't working, could she command the nine words? And if it was possible, could she control the words without actually being able to feel them like before? Without hurting anyone else in the train, let alone herself?

The risk might prove to be too great. She couldn't even voice the thoughts aloud when her breath stuck in her throat and she stopped breathing all together. She tried to stop herself, but she was trembling all over. One gangly finger was only a hard thought away from Mai's face. The snake-like teenager was reaching…for her?

From the corner of her eye, Mai watched a blue pulse flair to life, something that always reminded Mai of lightning, a frightening static memory started to build in her ears, unrestrained and dangerous. A memory: a cave, waves lapping at the edge of it, the smell of salt invading her nostrils.

Mai's hand jerked to Naru's, trapping it against his lap. Panic fluttered in her heart.

Fighting to breathe, she ground out, "You – _don't you dare._" _Not for me_, she thought.

Naru's jaw clenched. "Mai, let go," he growled. He pulled at her grasp and Mai knew that if he really wanted to, he could wrench free of her hold. She tightened her grip with her bandaged hand covering his.

"_Please_," she warbled all in one syllable. How one word could contain so much meaning in it was beyond her, but she pleaded silently that he would understand.

Resigning herself to it, Mai sank into a roiling depression, acceptance and torment all rolled into one.

It would have to be done. She could hurt people with the nine words, but this was Naru… Everything else be damned. It was better this way. She'd accept the necessary risks if it meant Naru not raising his own power, if it meant he was _alive._ Using his power could kill him—and _that _was entirely unacceptable.

Raising her right hand, she straightened the first two fingers and drew a slow line outward even with her chest.

"Rin," she whispered. His blue flame fluttered like a strong wind had blown over it.

"Pyou." The spirit's cold fingers brushed the edge of her cheek and ran down her face. Shaking, her resolve faltered, only to redouble when she felt Naru's hand trapped under her own again, his skin touching hers at the breaks in gauze. His blue energy was beginning to sizzle, painfully so against her skin, so much that she could feel it through the gauzy layering.

"Tou, sha." A hand she hadn't seen curled around the underside of her chin, around her throat. _A spirit was behind her._ The air seized painfully her lungs.

"Kai." The pitch of her voice rose with the sudden feverish desperation mounting in her heart.

A whir of something echoed in her ears. Power or—

Harsh yellow light flooded the cabin, and like smoke the spirits evaporated into the air…like they had never been there at all.

Mai exhaled once, unsure of whether to breathe a sigh of relief or not—or whether she could breathe at all. Warily, she dropped her hand down to her side, scanning the cabin for signs of anything… supernatural.

Naru pulled his hand back sharply from under Mai's, and the hostility in the action wasn't missed.

Mai inhaled shakily and her head sunk down between her knees as she tried to steady herself.

"That was a lot longer than a minute and a half," she said unevenly. She shook her hands out, trying to hide the slight tremor running through her legs from Naru. She gasped out a breath and ran her hands through her hair, clenching at the roots and pulling roughly.

"What was that? What just happened?"

And then Mai momentarily forgot how the ghosts had touched her, how they had hungrily eyed the two of them like a rare treat. Anger flooded her senses as she turned a brilliant red, fuming in her ire.

She jerked upright, and stuck an accusing finger in Naru's face forgetting her former fear. Sometimes Mai envied the steely nerves and resolve that Naru and Lin seemed to possess in spades, but at times like this, she embraced her fear and hefty temperament. She seized that anger and let him have it. Maybe then he would experience even an inkling of the worry and desperation that had clenched her heart and thought, '_this might be the last time. This could be it._'

"_What _do you think _you _were _doing?_" she spat out, shoulders shaking in her fury. Naru tried to get a word in, but Mai couldn't stop the torrent of words that were flooding out. "Respiratory and heart failure are _not_ a laughing matter! Haven't we done this before! I'm not sure you recall. A demi-god, nice little cove on the edge of the sea, _you in the hospital. In. A. Coma."_ She punctuated each word. "What does it take to convince you not to use your powers? Endless tea? Your parents' pleas? Ritual sacrifice! Tell me and whatever it is, _I'll make it happen."_ Her voice wavered, angry, but filled with rivaling emotions.

Steadily, Naru took Mai's hands in his own and lowered them from his chest which she had been poking rather brutally. He regarded her calmly, a proverbial eye of the storm because she knew what waited on the other side of this false pretense.

Hating the silence, she yelled, "Say something!" The old woman down the way scooted two seats closer to make out what was happening. Neither Naru nor Mai noticed the encroaching looker-on, watching hungrily for a piece of gossip.

Mai flexed her wrists against his restraint and fought against his strength futilely.

Naru's eyes were wide, not from shock, but from realization. An odd reaction considering how he normally responded to her anger, with his own anger, that is. But here he was curious, controlled, the scientist Gene always said him to be. Detached.

Naru eyed her curiously and when he spoke, it sounded confused and unsure. "They were coming…for you?"

* * *

At the end of the train ride, neither Naru nor Mai were speaking to each other. Mai because she was angry about Naru using his powers and risking a coma (consequences Naru said weren't likely to happen—but she'd seen it before, his defense was rather underwhelming), and Naru because he was entrenched so deeply in thought about why Mai seemed to be summoning spirits out of nowhere.

'_Aren't you more likely to do that? You know—__**world's most powerful psychic**__ and all that? Aren't you a magnet for attracting other things as powerful as yourself?" She crowed caustically. _

_Naru mulled that over. 'Yes. So why are you the ones they come for?' Mai thought it sounded like he was oddly insulted. The notion made her smile. _

'_Obviously, I'm far more powerful than you,' Mai said acerbically._

As they rode the escalators up to street level, another long stretch of silence stretched between them. Naru paid for their fares as they exited and when they were leaving the station, Mai saw Lin at the curb, waiting patiently with a taxi. Naru had told him to meet them at this stop so they could walk back to the apartment together.

'_You have no idea the trouble Mai attracts.'_

_Lin eyed Naru's other assistant. 'I have __**some**__ idea…'_

Just when they were opening the doors, Mai was drawn up short with a hand on her arm. Naru's hand.

She eyed him viciously, but didn't say anything.

"Don't tell him," he instructed simply.

Mai scowled. "_About_ _what_ seems like an important thing to tack on at the end of that sentence," she said vehemently.

Naru's face twisted into equal annoyance. "About using my powers. He'll worry needlessly. I didn't use them and nothing happened. We'll explain about the spirits on the train _later._ Now is not the time._"_

Mai crossed her arms. "You know I'm terrible with secrets. Bou-san's bout of 'bronchitis,' Ayako 'sleeping over at my place.' You remember all this? What happened every single time? Nothing is sacred to me apparently."

Naru half-smiled. "That's because I weaseled it out of you. You weren't much of a challenge. You give in rather easily."

Mai ignored the latter remarks. "_Weasel_ – awfully fitting."

"_Mai_," he grated out.

Mai pulled away from him and headed towards the doors. "You know, you say my name like that a lot."

Naru followed behind her. It was always prudent not to ask questions that one didn't know the answer to, but curiosity got the better of Naru. Mai did that to him."Like what?"

"Like you're worried I'm about to do something stupid," she said as she grinned cheerily at Lin. "Hi, Lin."

"That's because I'm usually right," he said sanctimoniously.

Mai drew back sharply, her teeth bared scarcely at her boss and sometimes boyfriend as she spun around to face him, if he could be even be called the sort. "You mean do something stupid—" she tilted her head like a curious pup, "—_like now_?" She said in a sweet voice as she turned to address Lin.

Mai sidestepped him when Naru reached for her, fearing the worst.

He was right. _As usual._

"Naru tried to use his powers and almost landed himself in a coma," Mai rallied before Naru could almost clap a hand over her petulant mouth. Lin turned sharply to Naru, a dark look souring his expression.

"Noll!" Lin said sternly.

"Mai!"

"_You're welcome."

* * *

_

The chill of London was fast becoming a familiar one. Even if it was the Summer here, it was a uselessly cold one. Mai tugged at the restraining scarf around her neck. It may be cold, and her breath may have fogged out a good meter and a half in front of her, but she was hot and the jacket and scarf combination was too much for her. In the end, she fought with it, tugged it off and stuffed it roughly into her satchel with a triumphant last shove.

Last night had been downright awful. No one had said a word to anyone, even Mai, and for the normally garrulous girl, it was an incredible demonstration of determination. They hadn't eaten dinner together. Naru had locked himself up in his room. Lin had lounged on the couch until the wee hours when Mai decided to go to bed. She hadn't been tired at the time, but needed to retreat to escape the laudable silence.

She hadn't slept much after that, waking every couple of hours to stare futilely at the ceiling and roll around in the bed in an effort to get back to sleep. Frankly, not sleeping was more tiring than running a marathon.

And the effects were showing. Purple circles lined the lower lid of her swollen eyes. She'd packed ice on them early this morning after she'd seen them in the mirror (and what a scary sight that had been), but it had only helped minimally. The veins in her eyes stood out in stark contrast, red over white. She couldn't even think straight from lack of sleep.

"You look awful," Naru remarked casually as they both stood on the corner of the street waiting for the light to change so they could cross.

Mai recoiled harshly. "Don't be rude because I wouldn't lie to Lin for you." _For the first words they had traded since nearly twelve hours ago, they were considerably civil_, Mai thought.

Naru rolled onto the balls of his feet before settling back. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his black coat. "You weren't being honest. You were being petty. There's a difference. And I'm not being rude. It's the truth. You look terrible. Even Lin mentioned it."

Mai regarded him warily, but continued watching the traffic. For Lin to have bothered saying a word to Naru even when he was clearly _livid, _Mai must have looked terrible. She touched a finger to her eyelids. Soft and puffy. Still swollen.

Lin, who was angry enough to not speak a word to Naru all night, was being even more secretive (if it were possible) by not coming to S.P.R. with them this morning, and was clearly up to something.

And in all her anger, and the ensuing silent battle, Mai still hadn't had the chance to ask about what had happened to _her _yesterday. Passing out and then attracting ghosts like moths to a flame.

"Not everyone can be Prince Charming when they roll out of bed," she retorted derisively, and stepped out into the street without waiting for further rejoinders.

Something unpleasant tickled the back of her mind when a brilliant pain ripped into the joint of her shoulder when she was wrenched back violently. A cascade of noise—loud horns and was that a scream?—rung in her ears. Her breath left in a whoosh as she was jerked off of her feet and back towards the sidewalk. Two silver streaks flew by in the street—_cars. _Right where she had just been walking. Her back hit Naru (or who she guessed was Naru) roughly with a thud and the impact sent the two reeling from the force of her weight. She crumpled into him when they hit the ground and Naru made a dull groan as her weight hit him again. Head thrown backward by the force, it jarred roughly against his chest.

Reeling, Mai sat dazed on the ground listening to his heartbeat, laying cushioned against Naru and staring skyward, trying to figure out what just happened. Against her side one of Naru's hands twisted in her shirt right over her stomach. His other hand came around her side to envelop her in a sort of reversed embrace as he pushed them both up from the sidewalk to a sitting position, but didn't relinquish his hold on her. Mai waited, reorienting herself now that she was upright. In her ear, his breathing was coming out in disjointed puffs as he tried to compose himself, an unspoken admission to his concern. Weight settled onto her shoulder—Naru dropping his forehead to rest against it.

"Huh," she said lamely.

Naru's hand clenched over her stomach. "I think 'thank you' would be…appropriate…in this context. Maybe you kissing the ground… at my…feet." He said it all slowly as he tried to catch his breath. When had he gone through all that exertion? Or maybe that just happened when your heart rate skyrocketed?

His hands curled tighter around her until she was firmly settled against him. The tension in his limbs spoke of something he wasn't sharing. There was more going on than her simply almost having been hit by a car—though that was pretty important too, she guessed.

But to firmly unravel Naru's calm as decisively as this? She would have said impossible up until this moment, laughed in anyone's face who suggested that the great Naru could be brought down.

A bystander leaned over her and asked if she was all right. Mai nodded her head and waved the woman away.

Returning her attention to the man curling against her, she said uneasily, "Naru?" She didn't think it was just her overactive imagination, or that he was just overly worried about her. No way—she'd never thought of herself as overly important in his life, important, sure, but not enough to warrant this kind of reaction. She had fallen into wells and drains before, been attacked by zombie creatures, nearly eaten alive (though asleep) by poltergeists and it was something as mundane as a car that pulled Naru apart from the seams... It was just a car—

The realization didn't hit Mai any harder than the car would have, but that didn't make it any less painful. The supernatural had never bothered Naru because he was the top of the food chain. _He _was the biggest bad in any paranormal domain. Nothing else came close. But what frightened him was the fleeting nature of life and how easily ordinary life could be snuffed out.

His brother had been killed in a car accident. How she had thoughtlessly missed that connection baffled her. She wondered if Naru would mourn her, and immediately felt horrible just for thinking such a thought. Of course, he would mourn her. He wasn't _that_ heartless. Mai knew that.

And what was worse was that he would feel even guiltier than when Gene had died. Responsible because whereas he had failed Gene by not being there for him, he would have been right where Mai needed him and unable to do _anything._

In that way, Naru felt guilt more powerfully that she bet anyone would imagine. He never doubted himself because he was capable of achieving whatever he wanted to, if not out of his own genius, then out of sheer, obnoxious perseverance. Naru never contemplated failure because he didn't see it as a possibility, so when it happened…perhaps it was more devastating than for someone who contemplated the chance of defeat in advance.

Mai turned in his embrace and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I wasn't thinking about Gene. _I'm sorry."_

Her short hair tickled his nose as she buried her head against his neck. Naru was taken aback by her sudden admittance. The girl had nearly been killed and _she was apologizing._ What was wrong with her? Something had to be off in the girl's head.

Naru didn't comment about what she said, only said wearily in a slant tone, "Idiot."

Mai was tearing up a little now as she looked up at him. Hot moisture budded at the corners of her eyes. Disgustingly sweet, and Naru had to wonder at all the times she was so unattractive: nagging, arguing, scolding, being immature, sometimes dirtying the office right after she cleaned it; All of which were pet peeves of his—and then all in one moment could turn it around by being so decisively selfless and charming, beautiful even in sacrifice. Contradictory, but that was Mai's appeal.

He tugged gently on her earlobe and looked away from her. "He'd be beside himself with anger when he found out you died from a car accident."

Mai choked out a laugh through her tears, smiling. "Yeah, he'd hate me. Probably call me an idiot like someone else I know." She hiccupped and Naru felt a familiar tug on his heart. Subdued, and exhausted from one moment of nearly having the future ripped out from underneath his feet. He helped her up and straightened her top that he had helped wrinkle up.

Staring at her feet, she mumbled a thanks and the blinked up at him, eyes glassy from the recent tears.

Naru dusted of his coat, probably to no avail. "He might hate you for a bit…though…"

"Though?" Mai tried to meet his eyes, but he wasn't looking directly at her.

He looked like he'd swallowed something sour. "Though I think he'd be incredibly happy to have you there with him—so the two of you could haunt me in your afterlives together. He'd never get over it. The happiness, I mean."

Mai reached for his hand, and for once, he didn't pull away as they strolled down the street. She laughed merrily, squeezing his hand. "You'd catch _such_ _hell."_

Naru looked down at the smaller girl, and imagined the faces of all the people whose lives she'd could have been taken from with one moment of carelessness. The way Masako carried on a sort of antagonistic friendship with her. Her cooking lessons with John because she couldn't bake worth a lick. How Yasuhara devoted extra hours to distracting her in the office because he knew it made her happy to feel needed and gave her a flimsy excuse to be around Naru _that much longer._ The way Ayako and Takigawa regarded her as a living treasure.

Catching hell from the dead wouldn't have been the problem.

It's the living that would have killed him.

'_Do me a favor, and I want you to take this one more seriously than when I told you not to tattle to Lin about my indiscretion with my powers on the train.'_

_Mai agreed surreptitiously. "Depends."_

_Naru gave her a particularly searing glare. _

_She held her hands up to appease him. "I think I can manage," she said meekly, and giving up quickly._

_He lifted their joined hands in front of them. "Outside of work, this is fine," he said. 'This' meaning their relationship. He quickly added, "But at S.P.R. I'd like it to remain professional." Naru sighed as Mai went on the defensive, her face became stony and unforgiving. Sighing and knowing how she was bound to take this, he let her hand go when she pulled away. "It's for appearance's sake. I have a good reason for why I don't want them knowing about this."_

_Mai raised an eyebrow at him. "Think it'll cut into your credibility that you're dating the subjects?"_

_Naru's jaw clenched. "That has nothing to do with it," he said shortly. "Can you do me this favor or not?"_

_Mai hesitated briefly before she nodded her head once. "On one condition. You tell me why." Naru almost rolled his eyes. "Or I go into S.P.R. gushing about the chick flick you took me to last night and I bring in love letters and poetry to read to others—"_

"_I don't write you love letters." His eyes widened as he realized her meaning. "They'll know it isn't me."_

_Mai's expression was nothing short of vindictive. "I can be very convincing."_

_Naru vaguely recalled the time that Mai had nearly convinced him that Yasuhara had been the one nicking his favorite supplies: his stapler, his paperclips, everything ended up on his assistant's desk. Even Lin had pointed the finger at Yasuhara. Mai knew how to weave a credible story. That was merely stone cold fact._

* * *

In the end, Naru still hadn't told her. And that was why she was currently perched across the room on the arm of the couch next to Lennie, whom Naru knew Mai was at least moderately frightened of. It spoke to her stubbornness: how she would rather sit next to someone she feared, rather than sit next to the familiar evil of her boss. The lesser of two evils. Mai may have been going along with Naru's wishes, but she also wasn't talking to him at all. She may have been all together _too_ convincing with how she wouldn't even look at him.

"**I'm glad you two decided to come in today after yesterday's…mishap**," Dr. Oehler said as a word of welcome. Mai wasn't feeling too encouraged though as it was a rather modest apology for having let the session get as out of hand as it did yesterday. But until the 'mishap' was explained to her, she would play along, just so she could hear more. Naru still hadn't seen fit to share it as he was still being petty about her having tattled to Lin about the train.

"**While we were waiting for you, we've been discussing possible causes for Mai losing consciousness during the testing."**

Corwin stifled a laugh behind his hand.** "She fainted. **Lose consciousness is a quaint term for _fainting_ in case you didn't know, Taniyama-chan.**" **His abrupt shifts in language were beginning to throw Mai.

Mai blushed angrily. "I did not faint!" She quipped. Telling her she fainted made her feel like she hadn't measured up in some way. Saying it like she passed out meant there may been an outside factor that had influenced the testing, and Mai liked the sound of that better.

Over the two of them, Dr. Oehler and Dr. Brandt continued discussing the matter like they hadn't been speaking at all. It was vaguely annoying the way they so casually disregarded them. Though, Mai assumed it was because they were speaking in Japanese. But turnabout sounded like fair play in this place. On Naru's side of the room, he sat sullenly, taking in the two researchers' theories and ideas while he remained silent, poised like a snake ready to strike when they didn't expect it.

Lennie stood, achingly cracking her knees as she'd been sitting for a long time before she settled back in. Eyes closed, she shook her head, chiming in,_ "_**Mai was fine. Her blood pressure just dropped yesterday during testing. It happens,**_" _Lennie shrugged. "**Even Corwin's bit it before**."

"**That was completely different,**" Corwin rebuked her. "**And I didn't faint like someone else.**"

Mai jabbed Corwin in the side. **"I didn't faint either." **He lifted his eyebrow at her sudden English.

"**Not bad," **Lennie commented. Mai shrugged, uneasy with the sudden compliment.

The doctors were ignoring them again as they hadn't said anything they considered useful.

Corwin looked at Mai eagerly. "**What'd it feel like? I felt like a kid again—you know, in science class and I got to watch your eyes roll back. It was cool.**"

Mai rolled her eyes.

Corwin poked her back. "**What'd it feel like, girly-girl?** **Come on, I'm only making fun.**"

Mai grumbled then shrugged. She had to think on how to say the right words, so they would understand her._**"**_**You know when you see the police lights and they pull up behind **_**your**_** car, and you feel like just swallowed your lungs**?"

Lennie nodded. Corwin said, "**Yeah.**"

Mai held her hands up. "**That's what it felt like.**"

Corwin grinned. "**So we should steer clear of that in training, huh?" **

A smile still lit Mai's lips. "**I guess so**."

"**Are the three of you done?**" Dr. Brandt snapped. Lennie, Corwin and Mai all turned to see the three researchers staring at them rather fixedly.

Lennie gestured to them, not letting it get to her. "**I'm sorry, you were saying…**"

Dr. Brandt eyed them for a few more seconds for good measure before he turned back to Naru. "**I'm sure you're aware that Leonie—**"

"**Lennie**," the girl corrected under her breath.

"—**is also a cryokinetic**."

Naru confirmed it. "**I've read her file**."

Mai felt more than saw Lennie stiffen, and at once, sympathized with the woman. Having a stranger know personal details about your life was a disenchanting notion, especially with someone like Naru who could be barely tolerated at the best of times and callous at the worst.

"Yesterday we had her reduce the temperature in the room to see the effects on Taniyama."

Without thinking, Mai said, "**Oh, I felt that,**" she directed at Lennie. "**Cool."**

Lennie seemed to wrestle with her response, settling for, "**That's typically the idea," **which was a lot less caustic than Mai expected. Progress, or was it just wishful thinking?

Naru's eyebrows cinched. "**To see if you could provoke a reaction from Mai's defensive powers?**"

"**Precisely, though I can say without a doubt, it was an out-and-out failure. So far we have no evidence of any of Mai's capabilities.**"

_A disappointment, _Mai thought. _Just like Naru had warned. They think we're liars – but that's not how my powers work! _Which oddly sounded exactly like what Lennie had been trying to tell the researchers yesterday – and they hadn't _listened then_ _either._

Dr. Brandt addressed Naru, tapping his pen against his elbow. "**Oliver, you said her power's are largely in the realm of the unconscious—sleeping. I believe we're quickly running out of waking state testing. I think a period in the Tank is in order—"**

Naru reproached the idea. "**It sounds like you're already desperate for results. Are you running out of tests? Before we subject Mai to the tank, I have a few ideas, if you can't think of any."**

"**I also have a couple of ideas, Dr. Brandt**," Dr. Oehler chimed in, trying to save face. "**I'll try them out—but if they too fail then Oliver, we'll try the tank,**" she said it fervently like she was expecting an argument. "**It's not particularly harmful to psychics. It only increases the acuity of their power. It doesn't increase the amount of power any more than she already possesses."**

Not trusting their expertise, Naru shook his head, "**You're unfamiliar with Mai's unpredictability. I'm well aware of the effects the Tank has on your common psychics, but the number of variables increases dramatically with her erratic powers. The outcome could be volatile and entirely variable**." He leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "**The** **risks outweigh the benefits,**" he said, punctuating each word. "**Especially when I know that you haven't begun to exhaust your testing options, Dr. Brandt. This is my father's facilities. I well know it and its personnel's' capabilities. Shall I call in Madoka from the field? She'd be delighted to see Mai, and she can vouch for these powers which I know you've begun to doubt."**

Doctor Oehler's fingers went white as her grip tightened at Naru's words. Somehow he'd struck a nerve, but he was always particularly adept at that. "**Before you call in Madoka, let me run my tests. If I can't provide results, you can call in your field researcher."** Her usually upbeat tone was decidedly dour at the mention of Madoka and Mai wondered if there was some sort of unresolved tension between the two. But even sounding hurt, Dr. Oehler was unfailingly polite. "**Mai, we've been rude. Do you have any idea why we're failing to show signs of your powers? Corwin, if you'd translate please."**

Caught off-guard, Mai tried to rally a quick response, but came up short. "**No. I'm sorry.**"

Naru cut in. "**It's because her powers lie primarily in the unconscious world. She rarely demonstrates the capability for physical manifestations—**"

Dr. Brandt snorted. "**Except on the occasion when she allegedly 'passed a physical object through an occurrence of corporeal transference.' Your words, not mine. That sounds like a physical demonstration." **

Naru's shoulders were set tight, a sign of his annoyance at being challenged. "**A rare one. I doubt a repeatable feat. The situation had some desperate and extreme circumstances that I wouldn't care to repeat, and neither would you if you read the full report.**"

Mai shuddered at the memory of Vlad case when Masako had gone missing due to some ill-timed, and careless words of Mai's. Corwin and Lennie stared unabashedly between Naru and Mai, clearly having their interest piqued. Mai fidgeted in her seat, wanting to look anywhere but at the pair of them. She wasn't sure if she wanted to go over those memories_ ever again_.

Dr. Brandt reared back. "**I have. You seem to know more about her powers than she does.**"

Vitriol rising, Naru pressed on. **"Shocking. I have more of a grasp on psychic research than my assistant. Does it not work that way here?**" Lennie blew out air between her pursed lips in an effort not to laugh while Corwin tried to hide his Cheshire grin, all teeth and gums.

"**She doesn't seem to know of the abilities you claim she possesses.**"

Naru balked. "**Clearly. She's an idiot.**"

"**Hey**!" Mai snapped.

Dr. Brandt seemed to grow larger in his seat, a puffer fish that seemed to swell in his anger. "**Unless this is just some scam for you to establish your **_**meager**_** credibility as a researcher – one book does **_**not**_** qualify you as a researcher. And if I were you, I would start my groundwork with psychic research less farfetched than a recluse – a Japanese farm girl that has such a wide variety of abilities that cannot be **_**duplicated**_**, let alone**_** demonstrated**_**."**

Face burning, Mai stood quickly, wanting to escape the room as fast as possible. It was about to get ugly and she wasn't sure how many more blows to her ego she could take.

"—**outdated, old bloke—"**

Stumbling upright, Mai vaguely heard someone call her name. Cold fingers settled on her forearm, a comforting grip at first – until suddenly her sight had faded into white like an avalanche had fallen on her.

_A vision…fantastic, _Mai thought bitterly. _What timing._

Her senses dulled as she began to slip under the trance, but heard—

"**Don't touch her.**"

"Naru," she said tentatively. In the white void, there was no response. She must have slipped fully under by now. Somewhat—semi-conscious?—S-s-semi? Semi-what? What did Gene always tell her this was? _Aha! Semi-cognitive_—which to Mai was easier to think of as 'partially awake' in her visions. Her motor functions were nil, but her mind was still working. That's what he always said.

In front of her, colors starting falling from the _sky_ (she assumed the sky was subjective here though). Like paint hitting a canvas, the scene began to sculpt itself around her. Maroons were absorbed into the void's white walls, gray-black filled the upper corners of the room. Around her, the retirement room was entirely re-built onto the void's reality, though it was dark and unlit compared to its real-time companion on the reality plane.

She heard voices and immediately ducked behind the couch, just in time to pop out of sight when the glass paneled door to the retirement room squeaked open and man eased into the room, using his back to hold the door open.

"No, that's fine. Just a sec, Doc." Rich, smooth, definitely not the uptight, 'cultured' tone Mai was used to hearing in the lab.

The back of a curly blond head appeared into view as he was still hanging out into the hallway. His other hand crawled up the room's wall, searching for the light switch. Mai considered helping, but something held her back, the barest notion at the back of her mind that said, let this vision ride itself out.

He easily found the switch, flicked it on and ugly, yellow, florescent lights kicked on with a buzz.

"It's not a problem. Meet ya there in 10," the man called.

He shut the door quietly closed behind him and threw a jacket over his shoulder while he surveyed the room. Mai ducked lower. Normally, in visions they couldn't see her, but she'd also been known to jump into—

_Oh, no, no—no!_

Until then, she had thought she'd been in control. Belatedly, she realized she was in someone else's body.

The body moved of it's own accord to crawl to the side of the couch to get a better view of the man who was looking at the other couch across the way with a curious frown on his face. Tucking her legs into a crouch—the body was decidedly female, there was a lot of leg showing in these shorts—the female coiled her muscles, tensed to spring at any moment. The man leaned down and started lifting cushions.

_Perfect, the prey lowered its defenses._

The thought was entirely _not Mai's._ It was something new for her to actually hear the thoughts of the person she was tagging along with in the vision. Fear slid into her non-existent stomach. Was this person a killer? Was that why she was seeing this? Mai had to stop this! She didn't want to take part in a murder!

Too late, the female sprung up from behind the couch and launched herself onto his back with a helping step from the couch.

The man tumbled and let out a cry as he stumbled backward and hit the couch, catching the top of it with his hands to keep himself upright.

_Run!_ Mai thought as her hands began to wind around his neck. Almost playfully, she leaned in, (the sick, twisted woman taking pleasure in…what?) and brushed aside the curls of his hair with her nose and—_kissed his neck? _

_What the hell!_

"Scared me half to death," the man mumbled, putting a hand to his chest. He turned from underneath her and she ended up in his lap straddling him on the couch. "Jesus, Len. I'm too young to have a heart attack." A smile parted his mouth like soft velvet. She ran a hand up the side of his face, and over his lips. He was decidedly handsome, a sweep of short, curly blond hair that tucked around the underside of his ears. Mai had never seen such light and curly hair up close. With the exception of Bou-san—and he didn't count.

Len_—_wait_, Lennie? _Mai was recalling Lennie's past?

Lennie smiled, or rather Mai felt herself smile. Eerie."That's what you get for ruining my nap. Divine punishment for waking me. What are you doing in here?" Taking his hand, she pulled the one she knew to be holding something out from somewhere behind her. He easily complied, just continued smiling like he was doing it just to appease her. Mai thought he looked at least a few years older than her, but still a few years younger than Lennie. Mid-twenties maybe?

Lennie's mouth twisted to the side as she eyed the book in his hand. "Nietzsche?" She frowned at him. "Doing a little heavy reading? That's not like you." Her mouth twisted to the side.

He pulled a strand of hair away from her face. "Just browsing it," he commented. "Are you trying to distract me?"

Lennie's smile grew wide. "Absolutely not." Lennie leaned down to touch his lips again, this time with her own. Soft as satin—_ack, get your hands off of my—get me out of here!_

Not wanting to be a part of someone else's dream in this way, Mai desperately pulled at her own consciousness, but was mired in the void. Lennie was obviously fighting to stay in this realm. There was the possibility that Lennie didn't actually know what was going on. When Mai opened her eyes again, she was jarred back, enough that she actually fell off the man. The film of her psychic vision had fallen off the projector. She had somehow managed to affect this reality, which meant it had started to disintegrate when it wasn't played the right way. The landscape tilted and Mai felt vertigo swallow her while she fought for equilibrium. The curly-haired blond man disappeared. She cinched the cord of reality, pulling it tight around her to make sure when she fell back into her body it wasn't as painful.

And it wasn't. She really was getting better at this. Her spirit settling back into her body felt like jumping into a bed full of down. Soft, comforting, like she fit it perfectly.

And easily as that, she was back in the real world.

Keeping her eyes shut because she wouldn't be able to see completely right on this plane, she turned her head to the side and barely ebbed open her eyes just a tiny bit. On the ground next to her, she saw two people crouched around a body. Mai could only see a hand, Lennie's hand, curled so tight that her knuckles were white. She was shaking (awake—that was good) and Mai heard a piteous moan as Lennie fought to realign on the plan of reality. Mai felt terrible. After all, had she not broken the vision, Lennie wouldn't have been thrown unaware back into the waking world. It wasn't Lennie's forte and slipping between the waking and the dreaming world was jarring, as Masako had once described it. It was her fault Lennie was in pain.

From her side, a hand slid underneath her hair. Mai glanced over at him, knowing at once who it was. Naru's smirk was soft, triumphant and pride-filled all at once. "Definitely one of your better reentries," he said thoughtfully.

"10.0?"

Naru didn't quite laugh, but acknowledged her attempt at a joke. Towering over her, Dr. Brandt had a small recorder out, the kind of camera that was small enough to clip into your USB and download video immediately. He clicked it off.

"**Fascinating**," he said. The one word made Mai feel dirty.

Over the shoulders of Corwin and Dr. Oehler, Lennie was sitting up, awake, but unhappy with a dark expression on her face.

Pushing herself up, Lennie staggered to balance herself. On the ground, Dr. Oehler gave Corwin a dirty look for not helping Lennie up. "I know better than to try," he said simply.

Stiltedly, Lennie said, "**Looks like her powers are back online. There's your proof, Brandt. At the very least, she's a reader**." Pushing, she shoved the others off and stood shakily. Without another word and not making eye contact with Mai, she left the room in a huff.

"**Post-cognitive**?" Dr. Oehler said hopefully, ignoring the fact that Lennie had just stormed out. Scientists were really…single-minded…

Dr. Brandt says nothing.

Naru nodded, the equivalent of 'Told you so.'

The buzz of their conversation echoed in Mai's ears, but she couldn't bring up the will to care. She just wanted out. This pseudo-vacation/disaster visit to the U.K. was rapidly becoming deplorable. Standing up straight, she straightened her clothes and lightly brushed Naru's hand of hers.

Heading to the door before they could catch her, Naru made to follow, looking minutely torn between following her and talking with the researchers. He chose the latter and nodded her off. He followed that with a secret smile. Mai was confused for a moment, but realized that he was happy—she had proved his point rather dramatically about how unpredictable her powers were. She smiled back wearily, and headed for the door.

Behind her, Dr. Brandt shoved Corwin behind to follow. Hearing the footsteps, Mai turned and held a hand up to Corwin.

"No, I'll be right back. I just want some water and air. Just give me a minute."

At her solemn look, Corwin acquiesced.

The silence and emptiness of the hallway was comforting. Mai just wanted the nothingness. Nothing to think about, to worry about, to care about. It was lovely.

Mai vaguely thought back to what Lin had said to her once—about her powers showing up when she needed them. It made sense. She'd never been able to astral walk _and _transfer a physical object before Masako had disappeared on the Vlad case. Then she suddenly had been able to, but then she'd never done it again.

And now, she felt embarrassed, her mind a flurry of emotions. Lennie had caught her by the hand and then boom—a vision. Right when things had been getting nasty. Was Lin right? Was it as simple as Mai needed something to appear?

In the corner of her eye, something distracted Mai. Looking up, she spotted a white light, one of Lin's shiki—the little demon guardians.

Smiling she waved softly, feeling a bit awkward that she was waving at a shikigami of all things. Her life was _so weird_ sometimes.

"Oh, hi Naki. Not right now. Where's Lin?" The light bobbed and wove in the hallway, weaving a tight figure eight in a flurry of motion.

Mai didn't understand what the little shiki meant, though it did grow brighter at the mention of her name.

Mai approached her slowly, remembering Lin's words of caution. She wasn't doing anything stupid—maybe Naki just wanted some company without Lin to pester. The closer Mai got to her, the more frantically Naki pulsed.

Mai smiled. Maybe Naki was happy to see her. _That would be a first on this trip._

Mai got closer and within a few feet of her, she held her hand palm up to Naki to see it she would settle in her palm.

The squeak of a door behind her, ruined her concentration and she half-turned to see Naru in the doorway. Annoyance crinkled her brow.

His face looked…tight..worried?

"Mai, get back!" he yelled.

Curiosity marring her expression, Mai started to say, "Wh—" but didn't have enough time.

Sound roared in her ears as wind blustered the enclosed space around her like a vacuum had been turned on.

The world seemed to rupture apart as a dark fracture of a black void split open directly in front of Mai. Naki's white light disappeared behind it. Shrieking, Mai leapt backward as a clawed hand struck out at her faster than her eye could fully track. The skin of it was a shiny, cold-molten black. Hitting the ground, Mai rolled onto her back and crab-walked back toward Naru as fast as her legs would allow. She stopped when her back hit his knees as he was crouched behind her.

He set a hand on her shoulder and whispered. "Stay still. Don't move and draw her attention."

_Her attention?_ What did he mean by that? Mai's fear-clouded mind couldn't put it together. Who was he talking about?

Unmoving, Naru crouched at her back, holding one hand up threateningly.

"Naki." Mai froze at the name. Slowly, it clicked. _Her _meaning _Naki—Lin's shiki had attacked her… but why?_

Naru's baritone growled out. "I think it's best you retreat before your master arrives," Naru said warningly. Mai stared fixedly at the black hand flicking it's fingers out in annoyance. In the dark, lightless, black void, Mai thought she saw the flair of a retina, the white of any eye. The hand clenched and unclenched as it pondered Naru's words. The hand was the size of Mai's entire torso. Cold fear slid into her belly as the hand flicked its fingers again as if weighing the options. Naki was hesitant. Naki was giant _monster. _Mai had never considered it before and the thought weighed heavily on her mind. The things she didn't know could have filled an entire Olympic-sized pool. Had she not been so frightened, she would have been annoyed.

"Naki," Naru growled again. The blue flame on his hand erupted, and the echo of lightening parting the air—the crack of thunder—rung in her ears.

Slowly, the hand slipped back between the fracture and the line slipped closed like a zipper being pulled up. As it faded away, reality cinching back up, the white light of Naki's small form bounced in the hallway looking deceptively harmless.

Mai winced, sighing loudly as the threat dissipated. Mai reached up and drew Naru's hand down over her shoulder. Either he would put down the power or burn her. The blue flame evaporated just as quickly and Mai's head sunk lower. Would the bad things ever stop happening to her until she returned to Japan?

Naki's white light bobbed again and faded after a large pulse of light.

Naru wasn't saying anything, obviously lost in thought again. Mai's forehead hurt, the stress of everything weighing in on her at once added to the lack of sleep she'd been getting lately. One tear was all she allowed as it more tears from being tired, a child's tears.

Behind them, Mai heard footsteps and hurriedly released Naru's hand. Not that they could have seen from their angle, but Naru had asked her to hold up the pretense of them not being together, and she would honor that the best she could. He had just saved her. She could do that much for him right now.

Worriedly, Mai looks around Naru to see Dr. Brandt. His face was lit with a triumph. Too late. Before they could hide it, he'd already seen it. Not their relationship, but much, much worse.

Naru's power. Clearly working and willing to be used.

Cheerily, yet coldly, Dr Brandt walked towards them, and said, "**I'm afraid you and Lin have been keeping this from us. Maybe I was wrong. I apologize for questioning your control. Apparently, you've been practicing for these long years in your absence from S.P.R. Exceptional. I think tests are in order, and I won't take no for an answer**."

Quietly, neither Mai nor Naru answered, opting to say nothing to the doctor as they whispered harsh words between them. None of which, Dr. Brandt, nor Dr. Oehler or Corwin (who were both hanging out the doorway now), could hear.

Taniyama's face twisted into a deep scowl. Annoyance, and relief at once.

Shaking, Mai stood, leaning on the wall just in case her knees gave out. Beside her Naru stood as well. Hand shooting out, she gripping Naru by the front of the shirt, pulled him close, a hint of a threat in the fierceness in which she seized him.

Putting her face as close to his as she dared, she whispered fiercely, "You're taking me on vacation _now_." She paused to jostle him when he made to open his mouth, startling him. "You're taking me sight-seeing, or so help me, Naru, I'm getting on the next plane back to Japan. And _that _is no idle threat. Try me." Practically trembling, Mai peeled her hands off Naru and took a tentative step back. Naru watched her, waiting for her next move as he couldn't read her while she was in this state. Unpredictable at times, that was Mai.

With those parting words, Mai swiveled around and stalked down the hall, one broken heel of her boot snapping awkwardly in her wake.

Naru, a bit bemused turned to the onlookers in the hall. "**Dr. Brandt, Dr. Oehler, I'm afraid Mai is requesting for a momentary break. The testing will have to be momentarily halted.**"

From behind Dr. Oehler, Naru heard Corwin laugh. "**Requested is a gentle way of putting it. Demanded sounds more like it.**"

Naru went on like he hadn't heard him. **"I'll contact you when we're accessible again**."

Dr. Brandt gave a pause. **"You mean, when she's ready for more testing**."

Naru merely nodded.

"**And what about you**?"

Knowing the question had been inevitable, Naru briefly considered it, having already thought over the possibilities. "**We'll see**," he said vaguely.

Turning before they could ask any more questions, he followed after his riled assistant who would no doubt run into more trouble if given enough time.

Dr. Oehler sighed miserably, and gave Dr. Brandt a beseeching look.

Dr. Brandt merely smiled back inquisitively, oddly different from his regular expressions of indifference or high-handedness. "**Why the long face, Doctor**?"

Dr. Oehler pinched the bridge of her nose and resettled her glasses. She waved her hand  
towards the hall where Naru and Mai had retreated down. "**Two of the most promising psychics we have in years—**" A cough to her left made her pause. Corwin, of course, was looking meaningfully at her, looking minutely offended. Dr. Oehler slanted him an obvious look in return. "**Corwin, you've been here for years. When you start producing results like the two of them, we'll reevaluate where you rank in usefulness. Stop pouting. It's unattractive**."

Corwin sank back against the wall, and held up his hands defensively. Dr. Oehler raised an eyebrow as if asking 'more?' Corwin wisely remained silent. Dr Oehler turned back to Dr. Brandt. "**They show promise for more than just their capabilities. Dr. Brandt, think about the inactive Gene Project. Just from watching the two, I can tell we have more than enough reason to reopen the project, if you'd allocate me some funding, that is…**" Dr. Oehler seemed excited at the prospect, speaking faster the more she thought about it.

Corwin, who had been pretending not to be there interrupted. "**I think it would be..uh, prudent, not to mention that to Lennie. Or for that matter, Oliver or Mai."**

Dr. Oehler stared at him quizzically. "**What do you mean?"**

Corwin gestured for them to wait, palms out. "**You remember how Lennie reacted when she found out she was unwittingly in the program? I think Oliver and Mai's reaction would be a lot worse than that. As you would say, 'exponentially worse**,'" he mimicked in a falsetto. "**And I've talked to Mai. She hasn't even mentioned it as a possibility. She's denied any implication outright. In fact, fiercely so**."

"**The lady doth protest too much."** The pleasantness in his voice sounded misplaced, making his words come off chipper, yet rather disturbing.

Corwin cringed back from the doctor. "**I'm just saying, consider it carefully**."

Dr. Oehler looked at Corwin thoughtfully. "**You sound like you're hesitant about something…you're not interested in participating...are you?" **

Corwin hastily shook his hands, nose wrinkling. "**Absolutely not**."

Dr. Oehler scratched something on her notepad. "**Pity**," she said indifferently, her words at odds with her tone. Afterward, she looked up to Dr. Brandt, who was looking pleased at something she couldn't discern.

"**Doctor, what is it that you aren't sharing? We've potentially just lost two subjects**," she said despondently. **"How are you looking so upbeat?"**

Dr. Brandt shook his head and tapped his head with his forefinger. "**Oliver's going to test for us**."

Mackenzie frowned, unsure. "**He didn't say that,"** she said slowly.

"**He didn't say he **_**wouldn't**_**—and that makes all the difference…"**

**

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**

_Next: Chapter 6: Leech

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_

_A reward for the readers, a break from all that S.P.R. nonsense, ya? Finally Naru and Mai get some alone time, but can they be civil?_


	7. Leech

**History of War**

_Chapter 6: Leech_

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7.7.10

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AN: Another gigantic chapter that should have been split into two, but as I wrote this yesterday and felt terrible for taking so long, I knew I should post the whole thing. So here you go!

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Mai was determined not to let anything ruin her day off. After the disastrous morning at London's S.P.R., an uncomfortable meeting, effectively ostracizing Lennie completely by neatly dragging her into (and painfully out of) a vision, Naki almost successfully trying to slice her in two pieces, she had, had enough. As fast as her feet would carry her, she stormed out of the office and _persuaded_ Naru to take her touring around the city to show her the nicer aspects of London and not that nightmarish office. All day, it had been just her and Naru—who was on his best behavior after she'd threatened to head back to Japan—walking (avidly avoiding the Underground) and taxiing around London. Though the threat of Mai heading back to Japan didn't sit well with Naru. He didn't normally succumb to threats—_ever_—and he told her so.

Frighteningly, she'd abruptly rounded on him and stood fiercely defiant in front of him. She fixed him with a venomous glare. Not an easy feat when she stood several inches shorter than him, and considering how he wasn't an easily intimidated person by any stretch of the imagination.

"_Not threat. __**FACT,"**__ she hissed, eyes narrowed._

Naru respected the threat a bit more after that, not wanting to push his luck given her quick temper.

Later that afternoon, under the shade of a sweet chestnut tree that sported a large amount of shade to curl below, Mai sat in the silence half-torn between bothering Naru again (and breaking his concentration) and taking in the beautiful view of Greenwich park and all it had to offer. The Royal Observatory was only a few hundred feet to her left perched at the top of the hill and she wanted to see the Prime Meridian laser when it came on.

Naru actually broke the silence first. "You know…there was something you could have done that would have made more of an impact on S.P.R.'s researchers when you had your vision," he pointed out.

At his off-beat comment, Mai glanced over at Naru who was looking over the newspaper laid across his knees surreptitiously.

Mai quirked an eyebrow suspiciously. "If I had put Lennie in even more excruciating pain?" She yawned out, vaguely annoyed at the reminder. "Maybe I could have put her in a coma. That would really have showed them, eh?" she said tartly.

Naru hesitated but then turned to give her a smile to be leery of. "The only way you could have made this morning any better," he said, and leaned over her while she continued to weave some sort of spear-like shape out of twigs and flowers, "was if you had taken Dr. Brandt into the vision with you. You might have thought to grab him on the way down."

Mai wrinkled her nose. "One, I didn't know what was happening at first. Lennie _grabbed me_, not the other way around. Two, I would not want Dr. Brandt in that vision _even if_ it proved my—" she corrected herself, "your—point."

Naru's eyes were closed as he leaned back against the tree in his usual all-black ensemble. It wasn't that hot out, but it had been sunny all day. How he tolerated the constant beat of the sun against his black clothing was beyond her.

Naru smirked briefly for her benefit. "You still haven't told me about the dream," he prompted her.

Mai turned her nose up, and immediately felt a little childish for it. She resettled herself. "And I won't. That was Lennie's private memory. It was intrusive enough that I accidentally fell into it. It's _definitely_ not any of your business." Mai tied another flower around tip of her flower-spear and flung it at Naru to punctuate her words. It twirled, spun awkwardly due to poor balance, and flew over his head ineffectively. She sighed, and began to craft another medieval weapon. _Maybe a mace_, she thought, guaging the distance between her and Naru. 30 cm should do.

"You'll tell me eventually," he mused, with the same inattentiveness as he glanced over the paper again.

"You wish," she mumbled, unable to think of anything clever to say.

So far they had spent the majority of the day combing over London visiting the markets that housed lots of different ethnic foods than she was used to. The streets housing the markets were crowded and Naru didn't seem to like the attention he garnered from the people (the magnetism that constantly mystified Mai whenever he was concerned), but compared to what Mai had expected (small stampedes weren't too far-reaching in her imagination), he wasn't really noticed all that much. After knowing him for so long, she thought he was more annoyed at the blow to his ego. He contended it was annoyance from the crowded market and being unable to walk three feet without running into someone. Though he did seem to enjoy (or at least, not mind) how Mai kept a firm grip on his arm as they wandered the market for samples.

Mai arched her back, stiff from lying on the park's hard ground for over an hour. In the park, Mai watched several dogs sprinting after the same Frisbee, long legs stretching out to cover ground and attain the winning piece of plastic. Out in front, every time the same greyhound caught the Frisbee with no competition. Mai silently encouraged the tiny terrier at the rear of the pack on. Maybe if she got close enough she could tangle up the front of the pack.

Today seemed deceptively normal, and Mai couldn't put her finger on why she felt uncomfortable about it. It was a perfectly wonderful day. The sun was out, the breeze accompanying it was enough to keep them from sweating miserably, and she had no reason to be wary of it. It was perfectly _normal._ And then it made sense.

Naru and her didn't do _normal. _ They did raucous poltergeist and creepy ghost children. Their kind of small talk was about the best way to exorcise haunted pottery. Their 'dates' consisted keeping each other company at the home base into the late hours of the night (so Naru could keep an eye on her, and so Mai could make sure he got _some_ sleep). Their pastimes weren't going to the theatre or going to karaoke like other couples their age. It was Naru keeping Mai from falling down old mine shafts and Mai dragging Naru away from the office, so that Lin would have an excuse to finally leave the office before eight o'clock.

Mai didn't really consider much about their relationship normal, but everyone had their own quirks in relationships. Their common ground just happened to be psychic phenomena, and Naru never stopped impressing her with his vast knowledge of the weird and abnormal.

Mai glanced at the supernaturally-fixated scientist. "Not that I mind this place, or any of the others I've seen today," she said surreptitiously, "but why here? Why didn't we go out to the countryside? Seen the big circle of stones or something?"

Naru eyed her with undisguised mirth. "With your powers on the fritz, I wouldn't take the risk of going to Stonehenge. Who knows what supernatural being you would cause to manifest there? I think we'll do our best to avoid all manner of spiritual places for awhile." She smiled at his frank analysis of how danger-prone she was.

"Is that why you wouldn't take me to the Tower of London?" She asked, watching him from the corner of her eyes. It was reportedly one of the most haunted places in London, but Mai wouldn't know until she was actually there. She had really wanted to go, just to get a feel of how old the castle was—okay, and maybe to see if there were really medieval ghosts lingering around. She would have _died_ if she could have seen a ghostly knight and horse prancing around the courtyard. Though Naru had warned her of the Great Ravens that roosted at the castle and that had made her less than excited. In her experience, ravens were closely tied with anything minutely preternatural and they didn't seem to have a liking for Mai herself, having once nearly chased her off a cliff—_and hadn't_ _that been fun?_

Naru didn't lift his eyes once to look at her. Ignoring her question about the castle which he considered self-explanatory, he clarified, "It's also easier and fiscally smarter to take the public transportation around Greater London," which Mai knew to be true, but also knew Naru was hedging around the real reason they had stayed within city limits. "When I take you out to the countryside, it will be for one reason—to go to my parents' house, which I expect will be sooner rather than later. My father's getting anxious."

"Your father?" Mai asked, interest piqued.

The rare occasions that Mai had ever heard anything more than the arbitrary detail about Naru's parents was when Naru "accidentally" left his door open while on an international call with one of his parents (which usually meant that Mai or Yasuhara had propped his door open when they had to conveniently drop something in his office). He'd learned to start locking his door again which he hadn't thought necessary since his first year of working with the two schemers.

Sometimes, on occasion, when Madoka was feeling particularly benevolent to Mai, the researcher would occasionally drop a hint about Naru's overseas family. Mostly, Mai knew Madoka well enough to know that she was only doing it to annoy Naru, and not necessarily to help Mai learn more about him. She also sure that half the things Madoka had told her were untrue, but she wasn't certain _which _half it was. Madoka had the tendency to spin some farfetched stories when she was bored—which when they weren't on a case, and she happened by the office—was quite often.

Mai rolled to her side to face Naru and poked him softly in the rib. He was really too soft. The scientist needed to add a new word to his vocabulary: _gym_. Mai didn't know how he stayed so svelte. Maybe it was the cardio of running away from ghosts so often…Mai only considered the thought seriously for a moment… or two.

When he didn't budge, she ran a more wandering hand up his side, briskly grazing her nails across his shirt, at which he flinched and glared down at her with a mix of interest and annoyance. Mai fluttered her eyelashes becomingly. It looked like something Ayako would do, and Naru wouldn't put it past the miko to have passed along that little performance.

Sighing, he folded the newspaper and set it beside him, while organizing his thoughts. "Yes," he began, "My father's the worrier in the family. My mother's the more introverted type—she'll say exactly what she's thinking when it bothers her enough, but until then she'll internalize it and agonize over it without saying a word." Mai mumbled something like 'that sounds familiar' crabbily. Naru pretended not to hear her.

Feeling hot, Naru rolled up the bottom's of his sleeves up to his elbows. "She's fine with me wandering the city—_annoyed_ that I have yet to visit, but she's more patient and otherwise content that I'm safe and sound back in the country."

Naru came up short suddenly when Mai's hand had begun to wander over his stomach dramatically curtailing his thoughts. For being so reticent at physical intimacy at times, the girl was surprisingly eager and unabashed at moments.

Happily preoccupied by his explanation, she probably hadn't realized that she had been ghosting over his shirt with her fingertips for the duration of her distraction.

"Am I boring you?"

Mai looked up at him through her eyelashes, and then back at the buttons on his shirt. "Nope," she said, popping the 'p' sound, and continued her ministrations.

Worried he might get a little carried away, Naru he firmly removed her hand and trapped it against the ground, only so she wouldn't wander any further and return the distraction again. Mai pouted briefly and rolled onto her back again, apparently ready to pay attention again.

Satisfied, he continued. "My father, on the other hand, is more the vocal type. When something bothers him, he'll say it the moment he thinks it. That's why he's called several times over the past few days. He's…unhappy that I haven't visited yet and has none of the patience my mother possesses."

Mai smiled at Naru's obvious discomfort at the topic of avoiding his parents, which contrary to what he might say _("I'm preoccupied with S.P.R. and with __**your testing**__—if haven't you noticed. Which of course, you haven't,") _was _exactly_ what he was doing.

Mai smiled incorrigibly, her recently freed hand etching designs into the fabric of his pant leg. "Aren't your parents the least bit interested in meeting me? Your girlfriend."

Naru raised an eyebrow at her theatrics, and shook his head while he contemplated that worrisome thought. "Fishing for compliments again?" he barbed. Mai didn't react, not willing to take her eyes off her latest effort, stacking grass on top of his thigh, which kept her alarmingly preoccupied."Yes, my parents want to meet you," he said slowly, gauging her response. Nothing. "_Now you're my girlfriend_? You seem to pick and choose the times when it suits you."

Mai went still, the wind blowing the top of her grass pyramid over when she wasn't fully paying attention to it. Tilting her head at him, the dangerous look on her face worried him. Perhaps that hadn't been the best choice of words.

"If I'm not your girlfriend, what am I?" she asked, stretching out the words slowly.

Naru sensed fragile ground, and treaded carefully. "Do you really want to argue over the merits of being my significant other? My parents want to meet you. Isn't that what you were curious about?"

Mai's grin widened, but let the last thought go. "For more than one reason?" She suspected aloud, almost insisted.

Naru looked at her balefully. "For various reasons," he confirmed, unwilling to give her anything more to go on.

"Oh, come on," she pried, teeth peeking out from under her lips when she smiled all the more eagerly at him.

Naru leaned down over her. "No," he said curtly, though politely and leaned back.

Mai shifted closer to him, and after she prodded his arm with increased vigor, he finally lifted his arm to let her scoot under.

From his side, she beamed confidently. "Your parents are curious about me. Admit it." She tucked her socked feet under his legs, and gave him a sideways look. "_Admit it," _she repeated. "You know I'm not one to boast about my odd…talents," she fought to find the right word, Naru noticed. "or the weird variety of powers that occasionally _demonstrate themselves_ on a case, but that _has_ to have intrigued them. They _started _S.P.R., after all."

"Maybe," he acknowledged stonily.

"Maybe," Mai parroted, bemused by the battle of wills that had cropped up. "_'Maybe'_ sounds more like a '_yes, right on the mark, Mai._'" The breeze in the park shifted, rifling through Naru's newspaper. He snapped his hand down over it so it wouldn't fly away. Unfortunately, it also made him lose track of Mai's hand again. "How about the fact that Gene was contacting me beyond the grave?" She said, confident that she was on the right track.

Naru shrugged nonchalantly. "Probably."

Mai couldn't help the satisfaction that enveloped her. She went for the _coup de grace_. "Or the fact that you came back to Japan for me." The words seemed innocent enough, but the meaning behind them hit Naru like a sledge-hammer. Clearly, Mai never knew the meaning of tact. She preferred a brutal frontal assault, not the stealthy, cut-the-floor-out-from-under-your-opponent strategy that Naru preferred. His way meant they wouldn't know what was coming before it was too late. Anyone could see Mai's approach from a mile away.

Naru finally met her eyes. "Awfully conceited, aren't we? I came back to Japan to start up S.P.R. again."

Biting her lip, and trying not to smile, Mai said, "After you'd already found Gene _which __**you**__ said_ was your primary reason for coming to Japan in the first place."

Tit for tat, she wasn't going to give up so easily.

Naru shrugged. "And the diverse spiritual activity that surrounds Japan held absolutely no interest for me, hm?" He added, challenging her. "It's potentially my next thesis."

Mai smirked, happily invested in the argument. "Yet the United Kingdom is the most spiritually active—or haunted—places in the world…reportedly," she said as an afterthought.

Naru glanced at her doubtfully.

She smiled back sheepishly. "Okay, Madoka told me that, but you still left home for the second time. It had to be for a good reason. You could have studied ghosts anywhere else."

"And in how many other places do I know the native language?"

"Three. At least, enough to get by on. How many words do you need to know anyway? _Ghost. Where is it? Tea! Now._ You would hire a translator anyway," she argued. "And you've told me more than once that I was important to you—_in various different ways_," she hesitated, "though not in exact words," she said quickly. "You bought me a pair of shoes once! And you _hate_ doing things for others. It's like pulling teeth with you in order to get you to do something _nice._"

"Work-related," he said briskly, shooting the idea down. "They had better traction on the bottom of the shoe, so you wouldn't slip on the wooden flooring. Not that it helped when it came family's _pond._ And they were far more sensible than your heeled boots that you couldn't stay upright in."

Mai tapped a flower on the end of Naru's nose playfully, one cheek quirked into a smile. "If I wasn't at least _part of the reason _you came back, just say it once, and I'll never mention it again," she said staring back up at the canopy of the tree. Naru swatted at the flower as it tickled his nose. Maybe if he suddenly acquired a seasonal allergy to pollen they could end this taxing conversation.

Naru watched her for a long moment before looking away. "I'm not playing this game. Yes, my parents want to meet you—"

Mai interrupted smugly. "For the most part because I've caught their son's eye. _Their single-minded,_ _arrogant, narcissistic, thinks-he's-perfect-and-irrefutable, stubborn and_—" Mai sat up and turned to lean towards him, perching herself against his side. She pecked him on the cheek as he started to get annoyed. "—_sarcastic, thinks-of-nothing-but-science-and-himself, insensitive_—" She kissed him on his other cheek while his frown grew deeper at the growing list of…insults.

Mai smiled again as she tried to abate his anger. "—_obscenely brilliant…__**absurdly**__ handsome_—" Mai's words slowed as she had inadvertently distracted herself by way of looking at him for too long. So close to him, she marveled at the frosty blue eyes so close to her own. His pupils were wide and dark in the middle surrounded by every shade of blue in the iris—beautiful, though he would probably like to be described as such, so she wouldn't say it, of course.

His eyebrows narrowed loftily at her as she inspected his every detail. She spotted the tiny scar under his hairline that was rarely visible and stemmed from a laboratory accident as a child, or so Lin had told her. Bunsen burners or something else equally as science-y. The hair at his temples swayed as he sighed, his exasperation diminishing, but still present.

Naru stood still and silent as Mai leaned forward, drawn as if by magnetism to press her lips ardently against his. She felt like gravity had shifted between them and couldn't resist the distinct urge to kiss him. She blamed on too much fresh air and too much oxygen to her brain.

Mai tilted her head to the right, getting a better angle so she didn't bump roughly against his nose and tangled her hand in the fabric of his shirt, tugging at it with slight insistence. Her eyes fluttered closed as she became more enraptured with the mere thought of him. Seeing Naru was addictive enough, kissing him, touching him like this was downright dangerous. She could lose herself in him—_if he never opened his mouth_, she thought with an internal smile. _Though he probably thinks the same of me sometimes—most times, _she corrected herself_._ They were more similar than they thought.

Naru, more appeased by the last remarks than anything else, returned her fervor with a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. He enjoyed running his fingers through the shorter hairs at the base of her neck delighting in the prickly sensation and knew from her sudden burst of enthusiasm that she enjoyed it as much.

Shy, yet sometimes overzealous, Mai's lips parted in apparent pleasure. She sighed against his lips blissfully. The simple gesture of kissing Naru was enough to have her pulse racing, thudding in her throat, heatedly pacing in her veins until even the tips of her fingers felt hot. She ran the pads of her fingers over his chest sweeping down across his stomach. She couldn't help but smile as she felt his muscles tense at the contact.

Mai pulled back, but Naru, still caught up, followed her for a brief second before resigning himself back to his previous seat against the tree.

Sensation returned to her as the tunnel vision retreated back from merely being Naru. The grass against her skin was scratchy and the wind in her ears became louder than the sudden rush of blood in her ears when her hearing returned. Mai felt the rush of energy thrumming in her veins, more awake than she'd felt in days after all her lack of sleep.

Naru sat back, suddenly more light-headed than he could ever remember having been. He'd kissed Mai in many more spectacular fashions than this one, and yet he felt the first inklings of dizziness edging over him.

Mai, eyes half-lidded and lips looking devilish and flushed red, crooked a grin at him. "—imperfect genius of a son," she finished, sitting back on her knees bonelessly. "If I can catch their perfectionist son's attention," she said thoughtfully, "then I must be something special, right?" She said it softly and with none of the unattractive and overconfidence that the words themselves belied.

Impatiently, and with a heavy weight lining her tone, she didn't wait for him to answer. Her eyes shifted downward to regard her hands settled back in her lap.

_Nervous over something,_ Naru thought decisively.

"You don't have to say it… because I know you won't. But you don't have to. I know my worth." Her hands in her lap pawed at the material of her skirt, wrinkling it. "I may not have known what I was getting myself into when I first met you, when I knocked over that stupid camera and the bookshelf onto Lin…but I've been around you long enough to know the trouble I've gotten myself into—and I'm not talking about the ghosts and spirits and whatever else there is—" She said the last dismissively as if ghosts weren't half as frightening as they had proved to be in the past.

Mai tucked her head against her shoulder, a nervous tic. "I'm talking about letting yourself care about someone who would never say the things out loud that you want or need to hear." She was careful not to say his name. She didn't want it to seem like an attack. "At the time, you were my boss, and that was okay with me," she said a little hurriedly. Her tone and pace picked up as her mind started to whirl with realization of what she was saying. Nervousness started in. "You were mean and rude—and I was untrusting and okay, maybe obnoxious—" She looked up at him meaningfully.

"Intolerable," he corrected her, a smile in his voice, but not on his face.

Mai pursed her lips. "But we both knew nothing was going to happen for the longest time—and then unexpectedly—_**it did—**_and I don't think anyone was more shocked that I was." Naru, wisely, stayed silent. "I know you hate how much I talk because I ramble on, b_ut, you know what? I know you better than you think_."

Naru sat back hard, his back thumping against the tree that was further back than he had anticipated. His concentration was at a loss at Mai's sudden, and unanticipated need to get something off her chest—again.

Mai observed his sudden lack of majesty with reserved chagrin. "That's why I know you won't say the things I want to hear, and as much as you won't like it, you'll have to hear me out every time I want to tell you. It makes you uncomfortable, but it's a compromise. You already know how I feel, but I'll still tell you. Every moment you'll listen." Mai steadied herself with a deep breath.

Finally, she blurted out. "You're _precious _to me." Naru's mouth fell open to speak then, but Mai held up a hand. "I'm not going anywhere," she said after she rallied herself again.

Unexpectedly, her eyes narrowed playfully. "Even if you are a seemingly unfeeling clod and _single-mindedly devoted to science_ and you refuse to say simple things like '_I love you,'_ or even call me your _girlfriend_." Mai exhaled loudly, torn between wishing she'd never thought it was a good idea to voice all of this aloud, and saying it all over again to make sure he understood exactly what she had said.

She rubbed the palms of hands against her skirt, and stared fixedly at the grass pile on his leg that still hadn't fully fallen off. "I don't want to force you. It isn't something I _need_. And even then, I'll still be here even when you don't want it, and _especially_ when you finally need it."

Pushing to her feet, she stood and took one more deep breath as she shook her own hands out, wrought with tension as they were. The skin over her knuckles tingled from making a fist unconsciously for so long. "I'm going for a walk. I want to see a little more of the park before it closes." Which meant that she wanted a little breathing room after such a heart-emptying speech, Naru knew. "If you suddenly disappear on me, at least leave me your cell phone to call Lin, or leave me a light rail pass to get home," she said hollowly.

"Okay," he replied vaguely.

Without pause, she hopped off the top part of the hill they sat at, and scampered further away before he ruin what she thought of as a considerably brave moment.

* * *

Mai wasted a good half-hour wandering the edges of the park before she decided to stop being a coward and headed back towards the center where Naru would most likely be. It also happened to be in the direction of the place she had really wanted to visit all along.

The Royal Observatory in Greenwich was at the tip-top of the hill in the park at the end of a long path lined with several trees and tourists. And while it wasn't _that long_, it was certainly an uphill battle the entire, tiring way there. Mai powered up the steep hill as quick as she could though, passing tourist groups and families on their way up to the top, skillfully weaving between them while also keeping a cautionary eye out for Naru. Mai passed the families easily and the slower tourists even easier at a dizzying pace that she didn't know her feet could move at. Maybe the sudden burst of energy stemmed from her embarrassment at having confessed all of her feelings again for a certain scientist or maybe it was something else entirely—but she felt alight with some sort of energy that ran just under her skin.

Reaching the top, Mai looked at two old gates that looked sort of wrought-iron and were reminiscent of the fences surrounding old, gothic-looking mansions, but nonetheless still very interesting. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she sauntered inside the courtyard with her same manic pace, impatient and curious to see what it had to offer.

The setting sun arced over the horizon, but hid itself behind one of the Observatory's neighboring buildings that drowned the courtyard that housed the Prime Meridian in shadows. Mai noticed several groups of people standing over one particular spot. Along the ground, a rectangle of glass had been molded to fit into the stone ground. The Prime Meridian.

But it wasn't the most obvious spectacle the Observatory had to boast. The green streak of light emanating from the observatory itself was far more noticeable as it shot through the crowd of people and out the tip of a spherical, metallic sculpture. It shot out over the sky of London towards the city.

The Prime Meridian's laser.

Slightly breathless from the sight, and perhaps more winded from her journey up the hill than she had noticed, Mai sat riveted as she watched person after person straddling the glass-encased line. The stars were beginning to peek out in the sky as the orange lighting dimmed and receded with the sun's retreat.

Seeing a large space clear up, Mai wandered to the line to study it herself. In the stone around the glass line at her feet, words were etched—cities actually—and she wondered at the significance of the moment she was in. Visiting this site wasn't necessarily a momentous occasion for her or something she would necessarily look back on fondly. She hadn't dreamed about it or even really thought about it for any amount of time before today, but suddenly she felt heavy, like something was resting on her shoulders, burdening her down. The full weight of her trip hit her in that moment taking the wind from her.

She recognized the pattern. The quickening of her breath. The disjointed puffs of air she exhaled as she tried to control her breathing. The tightness in her chest and throat as if she'd never be able to breathe again. Mai knew the onset of panic and distress when she felt it. She had been in far too many similar situations, though it was normally during much more dire events, and _not for a bout of homesickness_, she admonished herself.

She was across the world. In another country. Simply because the boy she'd loved for years had asked her.

She didn't want to cry, so she stared upward (someone had told her it was physically impossible to look up and cry at the same time, so she was testing the theory) and the dimming sky to distract herself. She didn't want to make it awkward for anyone else. It might be unnerving for strangers to see her, a foreign girl, cry to herself for no reason. It might even constitute a mental evaluation in this country, and wouldn't Naru love that?

Eventually she calmed down enough to refocus her thoughts. She could just tell. She was homesick. She missed her Bou-san and Ayako and all the familiarity of home, which included her grandmother's old blanket that smelled like musty old laundry which she still couldn't bring herself to wash lest it lose its memories and authenticity.

The sound of the wind and the drone of other languages people spoke around her filled her ears. Some English she understood, but the rest was drivel in her mind.

Not for the first time, Mai wondered what her parents would think of her if they had been alive to see her get this far. Her father, content with his life, all lanky-armed and stork-like, filled her mind. He was tall in her mind, but she knew this was a child's memory. After all, he had died when she was only very little. Everyone looked tall from children's perspective. And that awkward, partial smile of his reminded her of someone else she knew all-too-well. Lin—the other assistant—always standing tall and regal with that never-failing partial smile of his that he could never hide from her now that she had gotten under his skin.

Her mother, short and extraordinary; intelligent beyond her years, having sorted out their life in the aftermath of her father's death. She'g gone back to work full-time, and raised a child, no easy task. Mai knew the feeling. When her mother had died, she had raised herself, after all, and that had proved hard enough. Mai appreciated every memory, even the ones that were now beginning to fade from the edges of her memory despite not wanting them too. Her mother had said that people needed to forget things to make room for newer, more precious memories. _What a lie, _Mai thought mournfully.

Mai scuffed her foot against the stone, disappointed in herself for getting so absurdly disheartened out of the blue. She wasn't a mood-swingy type of girl, but today was proving to be a red-letter day.

Footsteps behind her prodded her along to move away from the glass line below her. Walking deeper into the small courtyard, she found space along a hedge and fence to lean against that faced toward the city. The steel rails were cold against the thin sweater over her forearms, making her curl up tighter to keep her body heat in. She should have stolen Naru's jacket back in the apartment. The city's chill had begun to fall as the first ebbs of evening settled in place.

In the distance, the River Thames (which was pronounced so _unlike _it was spelled that she couldn't remember how to say it) reflected the city lights from the buildings on its wind-chopped surface. People settled around and next to her, enjoying the view far more than the unexpectedly gloomy Taniyama Mai.

An arm next to her brushed hers, getting far too close and she looked up to apologize (not for any good reason other than to avoid rude looks and an unnecessary argument). Next to her, a wind-swept, peach-cheeked and thoughtful-looking Naru looked over the city next to her seeming to have settled into his own thoughts. Her gloomy mood evaporated to some extent at his mere presence.

Mai waited, unsure of his presence here, knowing that he had obviously not been scared off by her words (that being the good sign), but he looked reticent somehow as he looked over London with her (that being the worrisome sign). She wanted to ask how long he'd been there or how long he had been looking for her, but that seemed like such an infantile question. He'd probably been doing both for awhile, and that was enough of an answer.

Breaking the silence, Mai tried for small talk, which, she remembered a moment too late, they were both terrible at. "I stood over the Prime Meridian. That means I was in two hemispheres at once, right?"

Naru, tempted to merely agree, instead said, "Merely by created human standards, yes." His technical explanation and lack of enthusiasm was exhausting.

Mai's shoulder's dropped. "And there went my fun…" she moped, decidedly put out. She hunched over and rested her chin on her folded hands.

Naru seemed to give in momentarily at her unusually fragile resolve. "It's a noteworthy part of our established history the world over," he said resolutely, trying to bolster her. "Longitude – zero degrees. The zero hour. Where you were standing is considered monumental. It's just…infinitesimal in comparison to the universe," he shrugged.

"So is ghost hunting by those standards," she said sharply. Her lips puckered in irritation.

A glimmer of a smile curved his lips in the dark. "There are more important things, I guess…" He trailed off with some amusement at her rebuttal. "The line is merely a created significance. To me…maybe it's nothing, but to other people, it's exceptionally significant." He shook his head, his train of thought shifting abruptly. "Humans seem to have a need to create things to feel important. Such as setting significant dates in a relationship like they need to be _notarized_," he said disdainfully, "Or having things set in definite terms like 'lover,' 'mistress,' or 'boyfriend.'" He eyed her meaningfully.

Naru paused to consider his thoughts again. Mai thought better of interrupting him. He had let her speak earlier, so she would return the sentiment.

He sighed. "Unlike most things I've come across, relationships have no defining points. No clear start and stop. Each one may seem different, but they all share a common base with only minute differences between partners. In reality, there's only the people in it and how they feel. The titles are for everyone else. To announce what you are, so other competitors don't move in. That's just nature." The tension in her shoulders slid away as he looked at her. " It's why I don't feel the same constraints that we be defined by it. There is no competition—for _you_ or _for me."_

Mai's minute irritation deflated like someone had let the wind out of her sails. "Well, that's…not so bad, I guess," she said, still taken aback. "I knew that you knew—I mean, _you know_ there's never been any competition, but for me…" She stared at the ground for a moment, gathering her thoughts that had scattered everywhere when he'd unleashed his previous epiphany. "I think I secretly _always_ knew there was no competition for you," she said, laughing.

Naru snorted derisively. "_Oh, really."_

"Who else would put up with you!" She snapped, but couldn't quite hide the happy note in her voice.

"Is that so? Shall we test that theory?"

"This isn't an experiment! Your _girlfriend_," she said, pointing to herself, "would be _**very**_ unhappy with you if you tried it."

Naru shrugged. "Well, if you find her, tell her that when giving a theatrical speech that only actresses make dramatic exits. Real people stick around to see the results. It helps when drawing conclusions and finality." He leaned onto the fence closer to her staring at her expressly. Mai tried not to give in, but eventually couldn't help the smile blossoming on her lips, stretching from ear to ear until her cheeks hurt.

Earlier, both had been resolutely not facing the other, not out of anger, but mere tension. Now they were both half-turned, bracing for the next insult or argument eagerly (that was their favorite pastime), yet in high spirits and with their eyes bright and faces lit with challenge. Mai stepped closer, breaking that half-step in distance. He was only a hard thought away as they watched each other with mixed interest and defiance.

She stayed that close, waiting for him to make the move, testing who would break first. Mai stood like that until her nose started to freeze and her hands twitched with eagerness.

"This is so stupid," she said, starting to shake in the cold, but still laughing.

Naru only nodded in agreement, lifting his hands to rub at her arms to counter the cold seeping into her skin.

Mai didn't mind being the one to take the initiative. In fact, it gave her a bit of a thrill controlling aspects like this. Naru was much more modest than he realized.

Mai stretched to stand on her tiptoes. She gripped the front of his shirt and yanked him roughly down to her level. "If this is how it's always going to be between us. A little rough around the edges. A little tension. A little heat. I can handle that. But the least you can do is kiss me, idiot."

Naru's response was muffled as she planted a kiss on his lips, at first, light and feathery, but then with a little more impatience like she was waiting for something, but unwilling to go further with the audience around them.

A distinct buzz started to ring in her ears once again, and worried that it would turn into something else Mai pulled herself from him before she could be shocked again like the first time. It hadn't been pleasant and she didn't want to experience it again so soon.

When she let go of him, he pulled her back in against his chest and wrapped her into a loose-limbed hug. "You looked cold," he said in explanation. His own frosty lips betrayed him as he laid one last kiss on her forehead and then released her to tug on her hand to lead her down the hill for their escape. Naru wasn't one for mincing words or wasting time. She followed along happily.

Stopping abruptly, she nearly ran into him as he regarded her over his shoulder. "Did you want a picture here?"

His consideration was a first, but Mai decided not to pick at it. She returned a beatific smile. "No, I'm fine. This works for me," she said, eying their clasped hands. Her tone sounded worried, but it was more about the returned buzzing sound that was now a constant echo in her ears, whereas the last time it had faded out almost immediately.

Quiet as usual, Naru nodded and headed down the hill again with her at his side.

* * *

Mai knew her old friends at Japan's S.P.R. were considered a little…different. In some ways, they were normal. They could all be selfish, unreliable, dimwitted, sarcastic, flakey, scheming, childish and petty, but they were still her friends, and she missed them all more than she had imagined she would. In other ways, they were entirely _not normal._ John could bless spirits out of dolls, Masako regularly communed with WWII refugees, Ayako conversed with plants, and Takigawa played bass in a band….Okay, the last wasn't that strange, but it was strange for Takigawa.

_And Yasuhara was a horse of different color entirely._

Mai even missed that nasty woman Masako. _Especially _Masako and Ayako. Those two would have put everyone at London's S.P.R. in their places.

And it would have been _divine_.

Her friends were amazing. Weird, but amazing.

There wasn't much to be said for that assessment though as she hung around people who weren't all that sociable with the exception of John and maybe, just maybe Takigawa, also known as Bou-san. So maybe she should have been a little more lenient on Dr. Brandt, Dr. Oehler, Lennie and Corwin. Her friends weren't the easiest to get along with, even at the best of times, so maybe these new people were just a little rough around the edges and needed time to wear down to her charms a bit.

She really should give them the benefit of the doubt. Bou-san constantly preached that saying at her.

But that sort of leniency seemed to disappear under her new aggravation. The buzz in her ears wasn't going anywhere. In fact, it had gotten to the point when Naru had been speaking right next to her ear and she had barely heard him. She tried to play it off by laughing and saying she'd gotten distracted (which wasn't that unusual), but nearly two hours later and it hadn't faded. She was beginning to worry.

Back at the apartment, Naru and Mai had forgone cooking their own meal and had picked up food on the way home: a salad for Mai as she wasn't all that hungry (a first) and a modest sandwich for Naru (as usual, though he usually avoided carbs, or so she speculated).

They were sitting on the couch again as Naru finished off the last of his sandwich and looked at his fingers like he might actually lick them. Mai gaped a little as he wiped his fingers on a napkin he snagged from the table. _Had he really just finished that sandwich?_ Mai had never known him to possess anything resembling an appetite _**ever.**_

They were alone in the apartment. Lin was off somewhere unknown being secretive again. He was still upset with Naru and had yet to say a word to either of them. Mai hadn't even seen him that morning and so much had happened all in the span of _one day._ She really wanted to speak with the onmyouji whenever he made his presence known, and preferably sooner rather than later. Mai had a lot on her mind that she didn't want to share with Naru quite yet, which she knew didn't speak well of their relationship…but Naru was a difficult person and just as he didn't share everything with her, she felt the need to do the same sometimes.

Naru excused himself to take a late night shower and had left her alone for awhile as she watched some odd British sitcom that she could barely follow—they spoke too fast, and the accent was different than she was accustomed to—but she was starting to get used to that. At least, she could understand the body language and guess at what was happening, and if she couldn't figure it out, the laugh track would let her know when it was supposed to be funny.

A hand on her shoulder elicited a scream from her as she sat up abruptly.

Mai held a hand to her chest as her heart beat frantically. "Naru! Jeez, learn how to make some noise, will you?"

Naru looked down at her quizzically. "You didn't hear me run into the wall?" He said surprised, and she saw him lift an eyebrow even in the darkness of the room which was lit only by the light flickering from the television. "What's wrong?" he said, his face suddenly serious. The boy was too clever for his own good.

"Nothing," she said quickly, opting for the familiar route of denial. She picked up some lettuce that had fallen off her fork back into the bowl from when he had scared her. "I was just into the show. Had I heard you crashing down the hall, I would have taken the opportunity to make fun of you—I guarantee it, _klutzy_."

Naru said nothing at her barb, but rounded to couch to sit next to her. He watched her with a common ferocity he only got when something escaped his grasp of knowledge. He hated mysteries. Suddenly wary, Mai scooted over to give him room as he eyed her. The buzzing grew louder.

Naru wasn't much for pretense.

"What aren't you telling me?" He said, accusatorily.

Mai considered denying it again, but gave in almost at once. She wasn't the same girl as before, used to handling everything herself and keeping everything a secret. She had learned that if she needed she could share the burden and especially now, when she didn't understand what was going on, she needed the help he offered.

Mai sighed wearily, looking down. "The buzzing is back. Remember when I shocked you?"

Unsurprised, Naru said, "Which time?"

Mai looked at him oddly. "What do you mean _which time_? In the apartment—when I shocked you on our first night here, when…when we kissed." She said, heat flaring into her cheeks. "Are you saying I shocked you more than once?" She said worriedly.

Naru stayed silent. That was a definite yes. Mai hit the power button and flicked the television off, so there would be no distractions. The room was dark except for the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window and the balcony's sliding glass door. Maybe that hadn't been her best idea to shut the lights off, but some things seemed more appropriate in darkness and she could definitely hear the worrying noise in her ear more acutely.

Mai worried over her thoughts, and tried to think of a time when she had shocked him for a second time. She wracked her brain, but nothing offered itself up as a viable solution. Unable to think of another instance, she moved close to him again intending to threaten him into answering her. Startlingly, the buzzing increased.

_Was it related to his proximity…or something else?_

The buzzing in her ears had started off minimal, but then she was suddenly thrown back into the past. Sensory memory. Salt and the sound of waves cascading against the rocky cliffs. No life. Not even the sound of birds off the coastline. Only that earsplitting echo of thunder and lightning in her vision until it glowed white and she couldn't see anything anymore.

The cave—the demi-god, the Ebisu—_Okoba-san was it? _

She suppressed a shiver. Shivering would never convince Naru to try what she was about to suggest. She smiled minutely, encouraging him, she hoped.

"May I try something?" she asked, feeling bold now. She reached to touch his hand.

"You may not like it," he whispered quietly as if he knew exactly what she was doing. The low tone in his voice caused her to pause. He probably did know exactly what she was doing. Had he already figured it out? Mai didn't doubt for a second that he might have already made sense of what had been happening to her.

Annoyed, but focused, she left her hand hanging in the air, palm up, waiting.

"Trust me?" She said, quirking a brow.

"Now, yes. Other times…" he trailed off. She kicked his shin. "Ow. Yes. I trust you. Do you trust me?"

"Always."

His eyes narrowed. "_Idiot_."

"Probably."

"You didn't used, you know. Trust me, that is."

Mai smiled. "I know you better now."

Naru's face grew tense, focused. A smirk hedged at his lips. "You might be smarter than I gave you credit for."

Mai kicked him again.

He reached out until their hands nearly touched, hovering inches over the other. Static electricity pulsed between the millimeters separating their fingers, a feeling like dragging your feet across carpet.

At her confused look, he said, "I can try to explain it…but there's always a chance you won't understand." Mai wrinkled her nose at this, slightly perturbed at his renewed haughty attitude, but not entirely unsurprised. _This was Naru, after all._ And they had been having such a good moment. She almost sighed miserably.

"It's best if you just see for yourself," he added in his normal methodical confidence. He turned his head away, looking out the window. Mai wasn't positive, but she guessed that was Naru's way of allowing her to back out.

Without another thought, she reached closer again and the air felt heavier as it seemed to pulse loudly and so alive around Naru. The static jumped between them shocked her, causing her to jump back timidly before she could rein the reaction in. What a coward to falter at such a small thing.

Mai made an angry noise, pulled her face together and softly put her hand in his before she could change her mind. The static feeling dispersed under a new sensation. Electricity like a current pulsed up her arm, darting from her wrist to bicep, up her shoulder until it rebounded and buzzed noisily in her head. She could feel it in her bones.

Sharp pain prodded inside of her, seeming to stem at the edges of her skull. Naru noticed her wincing painfully and jerked his arm back. Mai hung on, and clutched his hand all the harder to make sure he didn't let go. He would never offer her another chance at this. She knew it.

"It's okay," she said breathily. "It just caught me off-guard, knocked the wind out of me a little. It's really…really not all that bad." She paused and rolled some words around in her head, trying to see which best described the feeling. "See?" A brilliant smile spread ear to ear, lighting her face. Naru was surprised to see that it actually pleased him at how much she actually enjoyed this small experience.

She tugged at his hand, hinting him forward. "Stop moving away from me." The air around him wasn't as heavy as she remembered back in the cave with the shrine. This was much easier to handle, but still, she couldn't face his disappointment if she couldn't even stand up after this. She chuckled offhandedly. Like one more disappointment could faze her now—right.

Mai let out another shaky breath, but quickly gave Naru a reassuring look that quieted his concern. "So is this what has been happening? What is it?"

Naru gave pause unsure of how to answer without angering her. No matter how he worded it, he knew it would come out wrong. Apparently, he had waited too long, as Mai asked another question.

"What does it feel like for you?" Mai wondered at his side of the occurrence.

"Nothing really," he said drolly. "My power is too much for yours. You resemble more of a black hole, sucking at my power." She frowned, wondering if he was insulting her or not.

"You're acting like a leech," he tried to explain. Definitely an insult, Mai ascertained. At his smirk, Mai yanked her hand back and catapulted to her feet, forgetting how unsteady she would be. She didn't get far. She stood only to stumble forward toward him when he wouldn't let go.

The scowl on her face grew darker when she failed to pull away again. "I'm a leech. _Fan-tas-tic,"_ she said, drawing the syllables out. "Any other animalistic traits you care to label on me? I'm sure the others will get a kick out of your insults. Do _me_ a favor for once, just save your abuse to share with them. That way I don't have to hear it and you'll give them a laugh. Now. Let. Me. Go," her voice scalded him. He released her and she stepped away, cradling the hand as if delicate or injured.

"Can you at least tell me why this is happening?" Mai said acerbically.

"If you sit down and calm down," Naru said evenly.

Mai frowned, but collapsed back into the seat. She would sit, but she would not be happy about it.

"I remembered it suddenly when I was going through some of Gene's old emails on my old computer. It's been sitting here since I left for Japan the first time. Have I ever mentioned continental stability?"

Mai looked puzzled, and shook her head.

"It's not technically a widely considered theory among our type of researchers. It's relatively archaic in that it's been around for a long time, but basically it asserts that some types of psychic users have their powers more physically linked to the area they grew up in, or are more comfortable in, however you care to define it. Gene, on one hand, who learned the extent of his powers in the United Kingdom was relatively strong here, but when he first went to Japan…" Naru paused, hinting at some other errant thought warring to take over precedence. "When he first went to Japan, he wrote me emails about how his powers weren't exactly stable. He even had trouble exorcising at first, which was quite the surprise as he was very adept at it."

"I'm sure." Mai agreed confidently.

"I researched it a little when he asked," which Mai knew to be an understatement—Naru didn't research things 'a little.' It was all or nothing. "I came across the continental stability theory and we guessed his powers would assimilate sooner rather than later. I never found out if that was true or not," he said, his words understandably dark at the memory of his brother's death.

"I assume, your powers are latching onto something more familiar as they are experience continental instability in the U.K. Your native area is Japan, and your powers are linked to that. In an elementary way, it does lend some credence to the theory."

"So I'm…" Mai hesitated. "sucking your energy out on accident or what?"

"Probably both my energy and Lin's which you have been in contact before."

Mai grimaced. "This sounds like the worst thing."

"It isn't all that bad…" Naru said quietly. At her questioning look, he continued. "You draining me has allowed me a certain degree of control over my powers. You may have noticed me using them with a little more ease?"

Mai shook her head fiercely. "You still shouldn't be using them."

"Hypothetically, it might actually be working."

"Don't be stupid. It's dangerous."

"It also might be why you haven't been able to sense anything. Your normal reflex to danger has been effectively reduced to zero by the addition of my power you've been draining, which," he added with a certain degree of self-satisfaction, "may be why I've been able to sense things for the first time."

Mai wrinkled her nose. "Take back your stupid PK power, energy-whatever. I want my spider-sense back."

Naru frowned at her. "Spider-sense?"

Mai scowled. "Don't you ever watch movies?" From the look on his face, that was a resounding no.

Mai shook out her hand as a tremor raced down it. She wiggled each individual finger, willing the familiar feeling and what must have been Naru's energy (or whatever it was called in scientific lingo) to vacate her nerves. Her forehead was starting to hurt from narrowing her eyes so often and so ardently.

"How long have you known this? Have I been hurting you?" She asked worriedly.

"No, in fact, for the most part I haven't even noticed—which is a frightening notion given other aspects, but actually what we just did—"

Mai winced. "_That_ _bad_?"

"It wasn't necessarily an unpleasant feeling, Mai," he tried to backtrack. "It was kind of nice, actually. Not quite like Gene and his control, but I haven't experienced anything close to him ever, nor do I expect to." Mai tried to take it for a compliment, but it was an effort.

"If it didn't sound like someone was pulling your hand through a grinder when you said all this, I might believe you," she said half-heartedly.

He stayed silent, giving her that same high-handed, yet frustrated look. "I rarely lie and if I do, it's almost never to you."

"Half-truth, misdirection, lies of omission. They are all the same in my book. And you've done it often enough," she said resentfully.

Naru's severe stare didn't change. "Nevertheless, it's rarely to you."

"Just because you lie to me less often than you lie to others isn't an entirely comforting thought. When do I know you're telling the truth? You haven't told me how long you've known what's been happening. How do I know what's the lie and what's real? I'm only so psychic, barely enough to be of use to you all anyway."

He shook his head. "I've never said that—often," he corrected.

"You've told me several times that 'I'm welcome to leave the case if I have nothing to contribute.'" Mai raised her hands and made air-quotes with her fingers, openly mocking him. "And that's always after I've realized something from what _you_ call my intuition."

Naru almost looked sheepish for a moment. "Most of the time it's because you were whining." Naru wished he could retract that thought the moment when he saw more fury light her eyes. "—when you used to whine. Not so much anymore…but you'd do other things like pulling your knight-in-shining-armor act. You have this complex where you just have to be saving someone or looking to be righteous, when you really need to get down to work and _just do your job._ There's no place for that when people have paid you for business. We're paid to rid them of a problem. Let them pray in a church if they want to save their soul." Naru said aggravated.

Mai was taken aback, physically she pulled further away from him and her face seemed to close off. For once, he couldn't read her thoughts, only her anger.

"Forgive me for caring for people. I had no idea it was weakness. Thank you for _enlightening_ me." Her tone was low and spiteful, venom dripping off every punctuation.

Naru put his hands up, trying to deflate the fight. "It's not a weakness. It's just strange to me. I'm focused, you know that and I'm great at hunting, there's no doubt about that. Our methods of working are just very different. It's hard for me to deal with sometimes."

Mai looked over at him. "Was that an apology?"

"Depends, am I forgiven?"

"No," she admitted. "Maybe."

He smiled tamely. "Then it was an explanation for why I act the way I do towards you. Your ways are very different than my own."

She nodded. "I can accept that. Explain one thing to me, now that we've come to terms."

Naru almost laughed. "You call that coming to terms?"

"Just answer my question," she said exasperatedly.

"Then ask."

"I'm getting there!" She took a breath and tried to remember what she was going to ask before he had caused her to get so angry. "Why do our psychic abilities feel so different?"

Naru rubbed his chin, a classic thinking pose. "Well, I assume that's because most of my power seems to lie in the physical realm controlled through my spirit and mind. Yours lies in the spiritual realm, mostly unconscious and spiritually-based. Gene was the same way. I expect that's why he didn't have much trouble contacting you as he does with me." His normally flat tone lowered and seemed to begrudge his brother this.

Somehow they had gotten so far off track that Mai had almost forgotten what she really had wanted to ask him. "When did you figure it out?"

Naru sighed. "It's probably just better to show you." Mai nearly fell off the couch when he started to tug the hem of his shirt from his pants.

"Maybe you can get the lights first?" she suggested.

Naru actually perked the corner of his lips. "After all this time, I had no idea you were frightened of the dark."

Mai shook her head, feeling warmth burn up her neck. "It's not the dark…"

Naru tilted his head, ever the silent side of their dialogue.

"I-its, it…" Mai faltered, turning her face to the side to avoid this embarrassment.

"Me, right?" Mai turned to stare at him. Her eyes moved rapidly from the ground to his eyes and back again.

"How did you know that?" Shyly, she smiled.

"Gene used to say the same thing." Mai's smile faded, an ache throbbed in her heart.

Naru started unbuttoning the top of his shirt and Mai almost missed what he said.

"So…how have you been getting along with all the cases we take. We're always in dark rooms. It's almost a romantic sentiment. I would have thought your childish mind would leap at those opportunities."

Mai resisted the bait. "Stop being so cocky. I've _never_ liked meeting with you in dark rooms," she answered honestly. "You make me uncomfortable. I used to think it was just me having a crush on you, but after we found out about your ESP and PK abilities, I figured out that they were most likely the problem. But it's also just you. You're plain intimidating." She chuckled.

He almost smiled at that, she could have sworn. "Every case ends up with us in a dark room. Do I always make you uncomfortable?"

She crossed her arms, hugged herself, then firmly said, "Every time—but at least I know it's your power now."

Finishing the last button, Naru pulled back one side of his shirt. The white gauze was stark against his side, laid just at the bottom of his ribcage.

Mai looked up, her mouth dropping open. "I did this, didn't I?"

She swallowed and lifted her own gauze-wrapped hand. "In the lab… when I fain—passed out."

Naru nodded. "When Lennie started dropping the temperature, your power began to draw at mine faster than before, but as we have such different capabilities, your psychic ability didn't know what to do with my type of kikou. Basically, I think it overloaded you."

"And I grabbed you?"

Naru looked sheepish. "Actually, I tried to catch you. The current between us knocked me out for a second too. When we hit the ground I had fallen onto your hand." Naru shrugged. "I assume the consistent one-sided current between us burned the both of us. Though I think your hand faired a little worse."

Mai glanced down at her hand. "It's not all that bad." Mai leaned forward across the couch towards him. When she reached to touch his bandaged side (the one she had been viciously poking today, no wonder he was flinching), Naru abruptly dropped the edge of his shirt. Mai took her hand back at his hint.

Closer than before, she looked up at him somberly. "I'm sorry about that." Mai looked up at him curiously, but Naru seemed concentrated, a strange look on his face.

He only nodded. At his silence, Mai moved closer, and gave him a wan smile. "This is where you say 'All in the name of science, ma'am.'" She said in a hushed tone. She tried to make him laugh, but he still had that fixated look on his face. Like he was struggling with some sort of choice. Mai reached up for him again, and he leaned back. Mai smiled. "Afraid to touch me now?" She joked darkly.

"Never," he said decisively. At that simple word, he leaned forward and kissed her. The hesitant precipice of restraint they had been perched on earlier that day abruptly crumbled when it was just the two of them. Tilting her head up, Naru found the edge of her jaw line and traced it with his lips softly before sliding further south to her neck. The sensation was unfamiliar, but Mai couldn't think of any complaints as she felt the first kiss along her pulse.

Mai's breath hitched and she heard Naru's own uneven breaths. This was something unlike they had ever done. This was new and exciting which might have embarrassed her, but she couldn't quite muster enough rationale to care.

She was careful with her hands, smart enough to remember that his right side was still tender and so was her hand. With her free hand, she took advantage of his opened shirt and tentatively touched his side in askance. She waited for him to flinch away but his own hand skirted across her ribs and around her waist to pull her in tighter.

Naru leaned backwards then, toward the couch and drawing Mai on top of him. Finding the courage, Mai kissed him, distracted between the sensation of touching him and kissing him all at once. _How did people focus during this?_ Her cheeks heated at one word: _practice._

Naru's hand curled around her waist again to trace along her hip all the way down to the back of her knee. She shivered at the contact, rising to meet his fingers. Twisting, his fingers curled at the top of her calf and slid along her calf upward as he drew her leg up over his hip. Mai didn't have the heart to protest as she suddenly forgot how to breathe, let alone remember how to be embarrassed.

His mouth found hers again and she sighed heavily as the barest hint of tongue traced the edge of her lip. She could get used to this. In fact, she imagined how lazy she would be if this was how she was treated day in and day out.

Arching into him, Mai tightened her arms around his neck—and froze at the sound of keys jingling from outside the door. Lin—_oh god_, how embarrassing.

Mai jumped up, and practically ran back to her room as light and fast as her feet could carry her without saying goodnight. He would get over it, Mai was sure. By the time she had ducked under the sheets to at least feign sleep, Mai heard Lin and Naru conversing in the front room as she had left her door slightly cracked.

"…sleeping on the couch?"

"…just fell asleep…"

"…don't leave too early tomorrow...things we should discuss…"

"…agreed…"

"…goodnight."

"…night.."

It wasn't the entire conversation, but Mai caught the gist.

In the kitchen, water was running. It was Lin in the kitchen because when she heard footsteps in the hall, she saw Naru in the doorway, shirt tucked into one side and only buttoned half-way (and what looked like at least a button off).

"We'll talk in the morning," she said hurriedly, trying to usher him away before Lin could catch them.

Unperturbed, Naru walked over to the bed and left her door wide open. If not for Lin, Mai would have yelled at him for the indiscretion.

Naru leaned over her, and shook his head. "We're not kids anymore, Mai." She tried to duck under the sheet further, but he caught the fabric and pulled it down just enough to bare her face. He kissed her once on the lips and once on her forehead before he retreated.

"That's how you say goodnight," he said with no hint of forgiveness and disappeared down the hallway.

In her bed, Mai burned with embarrassment and tried to get some sleep, but knew with all the thoughts running through her head—it would be absolutely futile.

* * *

AN: Ugh.

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Next: Chapter 7: The Art of War: Negotiations and Concessions


	8. Art of War: Negotiations and Concessions

**History of War**

_Chapter 7: The Art of War: Negotiations and Concessions_

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9.23.10

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AN: If you have no idea what's going on in this chapter bear with me, you will.

Also, thank you to the reviewers! Normally, I'm excellent about responding to each and every one of you, but I've been tremendously busy lately and I'm moving this week, so things have been very very hectic. So thank you all so very much for the kind words and the smart criticisms and every single catch you make in the chapters. It's both wonderful and very useful.

Also, before I started this story I made some sketches to get an idea on what I wanted the characters to look like. If you want to see them, feel free to go to my profile and follow the link about mid-way down by where the updates for each story is.

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Next to Naru, Lin was probably the most perceptive of anyone he had ever met. And that child was a particular anomaly as it was—freakish at times, but all the same Naru enthralled anyone who happened to cross his pristine and well-paved path with his astronomically accurate deductive and reasoning skills. Sometimes, after a bottle of wine or Madoka's famous dry martinis, Lin and Madoka secretly hypothesized that it was some form of undocumented power—or maybe an acute form of jealousy they had both developed after being outwitted by a child nearly half their age since he had hit puberty. Probably even before then, though they never mentioned it.

Their egos were fragile enough and Lin was willing to stick with the supernatural theory.

That was why when Mai emerged from her room muttering, "One thousand, three hundred and ninety-two," he picked up on it immediately—along with the swollen eyelids, the bloodshot vessels standing out in stark contrast to the whites of her eyes, the slight sway of her steps like her legs were made of tinder as she seemed to struggle to find her equilibrium and the way her shoulders sagged as though an invisible weight had settled over them.

Normally, he didn't like to intrude on anyone else's more personal matters, but after she tried to take out the first accent chair in the living room (followed quickly by the second) by barreling into it as though she hadn't seen it, Lin decided, against his better judgment, that maybe he had better inquire as to what was the problem—after all, one never knew when it came to teenage females. They were a particularly virulent and whiplash-inducing lot.

Of course, then she went headfirst over the couch before he could say anything.

Behind the couch, Lin could only see the tops of her pink-socked feet sticking haphazardly up towards the ceiling. Oddly, she had yet to make an attempt to correct her position, just sat there, feet askew in the air. As he rounded the large piece of furniture, he hesitated a moment to take in the situation.

Then he eyed the bottle of Brandy on the counter that the leasing company had left as a welcome gift. The fluid line didn't look any lower, but all it would take was a little creative thinking and some water to restore that. The foil on the top of the bottle was untarnished. So drinking was out unless the two teens had snuck other forms of booze into the house. Unlikely, but…he stared at the upturned feet again. _Right_, he thought, _unlikely._

A resigned look was etched onto Mai's face that was currently squished into the frieze style carpet—the type of carpet that wasn't vacuumed too often due to the special sort of vacuum needed for it so that you didn't pull the individual weaves out. Which meant that it probably wasn't cleaned a lot—which might have explained why it was the carpet that Mai was now sniffing and scowling at, though she had yet to move.

He stared at her curiously with a tilt of his head until propriety moved him to pull her nightgown back over her hips to cover her cotton-clothed derrière. Lin then hefted the immobile girl upright with a hand around her waist and the other hand stabilizing her with a firm grip on her shoulders.

The tiny, russet-haired girl was on her feet and seemingly steady for a moment when Lin released her—at which she promptly deflated and sat heavily on the floor, her back thudding against the couch.

"One thousand, three hundred and ninety-two," she muttered again, just as coherently and just as obliquely. Lin analyzed the situation.

Had something happened last night?

Supernatural? Absolutely not. Naru or Lin's shiki would have picked up on it.

Something of the more mundane variety? Lin didn't think so, but he could only venture an educated guess. Around the time that Lin had returned last night, an inopportune moment by the reaction of the two teens—and the extended duration of time he had been forced to jingle his keys around in his palms to give the two teens enough time to make themselves proper was laughable. Evidently, it wasn't even adequate enough time to button a shirt properly—which Naru hadn't—or make a quiet escape back to one's room—which Mai had failed miserably at doing as she barreled recklessly and raucously down the apartment's hallway with heavy-trodden footsteps that echoed several floors below.

They had even missed him deliberately plodding down the hallway as an advanced sort of warning. Whatever they had been doing (he had some idea), they had been so engrossed in it that they had been completely oblivious to the outside world. Not even those moments made Lin miss being a teenager.

Lin watched the comatose, yet coherent girl as she admired the edge of the hardwood floor that bordered the kitchen. At that moment, Lin felt a little out of his depth.

_Shouldn't Naru be here doing this?_ Lin thought, admittedly sulkily. Naru must have known this meltdown was coming and had left appropriately early to avoid such a disaster. It was that damned supernaturally accurate perception the kid possessed.

Lin waved a hand in front of Mai's face. She tracked the hand distinctly well and then turned a vicious, though decidedly tired-looking expression on him.

"I'm not _blind_," she said fiercely.

Lin held up fingers for her to count.

Another annoyed expression. "Thirteen." He returned a scowl of his own. "Okay, two. No sense of _humor_," she guffawed, and rolled her eyes.

Lin dropped to a squat in front of her and perched his chin on his hand, elbow balanced on his knee. He fumbled in his back pocket for his keys and jingled them around until he found the right keychain. It wasn't quite the penlight doctors normally used, but it also wasn't a laser that was going to burn out her retinas.

Lin flicked the light into her eyes which she promptly batted away. "I told you I can see just fine. _Come off it_ _already_!"

Her pupils weren't dilated, so as far as he could tell no concussion. Though, he knew that wasn't the only sign for such injuries.

But she was aggravated, and using British colloquialisms. Perhaps both symptoms of extended duress during her travels? Entirely possible and likely from what he had seen happening at the lab.

The normally quirky and sunshine-in-your-pocket girl was all flash floods and hellcat at the moment.

Personality affected? Possession? Again, his first thought was supernatural, but no.

Lin studied her for a moment, bolstered his thoughts, and asked her pointedly, "Did Naru try something last night that made you uncomfortable?"

Mai didn't even turn bright red, just sighed and dropped her head to her chest. "No." Her head whipped back up. "Though the jerk had the nerve to sneak out this morning. Did he seem weird to you?" She asked, and looked up at him, every bit the teenager for once. Reserve and nervousness mixed with defiance and spunk.

Lin helped her to her feet again and sat her in the couch where he took a seat opposite of her. "I had a talk with him this morning regarding our—he told you about his leech theory, am I correct?"

Mai yawned into her hand, though her expression noticeably darkened. "Can we not call it leech theory? Maybe friends-share theory, or symbiotic theory?"

Lin quirked a brow at her.

Mai swatted at him, but her depth perception must have been off because she missed by nearly two feet.

Lin considered checking her eyesight again, but thought that he didn't want to be too close to Mai at the moment considering her current feistiness that didn't look to be subsiding any time soon.

"I know what symbiotes are!" Lin noted that she growled menacingly even for a tiny, alto-pitched creature.

For a few minutes, both pondered this thought in silence, Mai seemingly blank and Lin wondering how much in fact this girl had been taught over the course of her tutelage under Naru. Perhaps, she was smarter than he had given her credit for.

She might have actually been _listening_ to them_._ Mai noisily blew at the bangs that fluttered determinedly into her eyes and kept losing to the hair. Lin shook his head.

Pausing her increasingly aggravating motions, he asked, "So…one thousand, three hundred and ninety-two?"

"The revolutions of a ceiling fan in an hour," she said seriously. The resolute look on her face was less than reassuring. If anything, it made Lin question the possibility of dementia even more. Young onset, be damned.

Lin didn't give more of a reaction than lifting his eyebrow. Mai still seemed affronted by his non-spoken question—one that he certainly hadn't _thought_ nor asked.

"What?" She said defensively. "It was a slow fan!"

* * *

"And she's doing what now?"

"Sleeping," Lin replied succinctly.

The voice on the other end of the line sighed heavily. "It's nearly 10:30," the male responded, disbelief lined his voice.

Lin rubbed a hand across his face. "She hasn't slept all night. In fact, from what she told me, this is the first time in three nights she has gotten any sleep."

The voice on the phone balked. "Nearly 72 hours of being awake? Was she cognitive the whole time?" While the first question was accusatory, the second had switched to a distinct scientific interest. The whiplash didn't faze Lin in the least.

"At least for the hours that I was in her presence," Lin confirmed. He hesitated a moment, thinking on whether or not to share the next piece of information. "…and earlier this morning she seized. Duration: thirty seconds."

Across the line, there was silence. "She wha—had a seizure?" The voice sounded hollow.

"Yes. She's been down since then."

"Since when?"

Lin's answer was quick. "Almost two hours ago."

"Unreal." The voice sounded genuinely amazed. "Staying awake for an extended period of time must have weakened her, then triggered the seizure—though I'm unsure how—and the seizure finally knocked her out. Is that an addendum that we'll need to the list of her ever-expanding powers?"

Lin shook his head then realized the voice on the line couldn't _see _him. "No, I think it's a symptom of her power, not a precursor to a supplementary power."

"Hmm, feasible," the voice reasoned. Lin tried to speak, but the voice carried on over him as if he had never said a word. It was familiar_—and irritating—_but Lin was used to it. A certain prodigy was always speaking over him. "—possibly as a warning sort of display," the voice argued to himself. "Contrition for stealing the power?"

"Contrition?" Lin cut in, momentarily baffled. Mai was no thief and asking repentance for such a survivalist reaction wasn't necessary—though it sounded _very Mai-like._

If Lin could have seen the man on the other side of the phone, he could have sworn he would be waving his hand in dismissal as if brushing Lin's thoughts away. "A side effect. Though, I assume you've already run over these possibilities?" His tone wasn't as neutral as it was before as though the voice was suggesting something…

Lin's eyebrow twitched at the insulation of him being lazy. "Yes, sir, but we have no firm evidence for or against such suppositions at the moment." The words, 'it's too soon' briefly skirted on the edge of his tongue before he swallowed them. It sounded like an excuse, and Lin had no need for them.

"Of course, you have," the voice said without acknowledging Lin's attempt to comment and all the previous accusation was gone just like that. Fickle, that was the man on the other end of the phone. Lin tried to remember that. A lot like Madoka actually with the way she teetered back and forth so quickly between thoughts and emotions.

The voice wasn't being rude intentionally. He was just thinking aloud, and actively doing his best to ignore the Onmyouji. Brainstorming aloud, they called it. Lin had other words (read: insults) for it…

From his seat on the couch, Lin heard a ruffle of cloth and a sigh that jarred his train of thought to sudden alertness, and all his prior spite vanished. He tilted the mouthpiece back up so his voice wouldn't be muffled. "Sir, I have to go." Lin tried to keep the obvious cheerfulness out of his voice.

The voice wasn't listening, of course. "—possibly a vacuum theory—you know, a reversal of sorts could return her back to normal—maybe the tank—"

The couch creaked under Mai's weight as she sat up and blinked sleepily at Lin.

She still looked tired, but much better, as good as one could look after suffering through a long bout of insomnia followed swiftly by a seizure—frankly, she looked the wrong side of a used wet nap. Mai probably wouldn't appreciate that thought, so Lin smartly kept it to himself.

"_Sir_, I have to go now. She's awake." Lin clicked the end button (_did touch-screen phones really warrant the word 'button?'_ Lin contemplated, his thoughts askew) without waiting for the response.

* * *

Tea seemed to help.

Though decaffeinated should have been the only option—Mai insisted that the more stimulating kinds of tea tasted the best at the moment—and Lin wasn't in the mood to argue. The last phone call had drained it all out of him.

Hearing about Mai's current condition had already set Naru on edge. It wasn't easy to tell from the slight shift in pitch, the crinkle of a newspaper (likely Naru's hand clenching) and the short dispassionate reply of: "Call me when she's in a coma."

Snide, curt and sarcastic. A rude and underwhelming response from anyone else—an overreaction from Naru. Two years ago, Naru would have just hung up on him. The fact that he had used six whole words (the longer the monologue, the worse Naru's temper was, exponentially speaking) and one entire contraction was the telltale sign of Naru's irritation. Not his seeming non-reaction. Not his deflecting tone of voice. He was only long-winded when he was feeling particularly spiteful, or worried.

And the contraction was another indication. Naru strung out his sentences syllable by syllable preferring two words to the lazy contraction. Although, lately he was slipping up the more often he was around his less proper spoken assistant. Words like cannot, and phrases like, 'Mai, _that is _not sleeping space,' or 'Bou-san, refrain from startling the spirits with your inane and incessant prattle,' when 'stop talking' would have sufficed were more the common denominator when it came to Naru.

Though Lin _had_ laughed rather loudly when Naru had muttered how Bou-san '_could talk nineteen to the dozen_.' No one else at S.P.R. had understood the turn of phrase, but Lin had rather enjoyed the stupefied look on everyone's face as they contemplated Naru's musing (and the fact that he had _muttered_ something).

But during the phone call from one poker face to another, Lin could have read his Naru's vocal expressions and intonations if he'd been blindfolded, spun in three circles and had earplugs cemented in. Lin knew the teen from his shiny dark-haired head to his ballerina feet (by that Lin meant Naru could tread lighter than any feline Lin knew of).

Mai slurped loudly then breaking the silence. Lin looked up at her as he cradled his own untouched tea. He had no interest in drinking it. He only wanted to keep his hands warm in the frigid apartment.

Mai started: "You remember how you said that my powers might appear when I need them to—like how sometimes when I'm not ghost-hunting how my powers kind of fade?" Lin nodded. "Well, when all three of the things happened, I don't know why, but my powers didn't appear… I definitely needed my powers then, and they _flaked_ on me."

Lin contemplated this with a serious expression as Mai ran a fingertip around the rim of her near-empty cup.

"Yes, like when the car nearly struck you," he volunteered.

She took a shaky breath. "Or when I saw the vision with Lennie."

"Or when Naki almost cleaved you in two."

Mai grimaced at his pointed comment and look. "Yeah, like that."

Her face twisted in a scowl as she tried to organize her thoughts. "When I needed it, they vanished. The warning of danger I always get—the so-called animal instinct—" she held her hand out in front of him and turned it over. It was empty, "—is gone. It was like walking in front of a loaded cannon blindfolded, Lin. I didn't have time to be frightened _because I was about to be dead_."

The pallor of her skin was pronounced at her acknowledgment. "I was oblivious to it—both times."

Lin smoothed a hand over his eyebrow before he forcefully returned it to his lap. It was an anxious gesture, one he didn't want Mai to see. "Assuming the luxury of your warnings is no longer afforded, perhaps we should perform a few preventative measures," he said, holding both hands up in an offering of help.

Mai folded her fingers in her lap, and twisted them around viciously. "Maybe," she murmured cautiously, drawing out the two syllables as she mulled her options over. "What I don't understand is why I can have a vision randomly, but not a life-or-death 'hey-don't-walk-into-oncoming-traffic' warning. It's _backwards,_" she groaned.

Lin couldn't agree more. "Maybe we should be considering things on a more fundamental level—look at the surface of the issue and not any deeper than that." He folded his hands carefully.

Mai pursed her lips, thinking she was missing something. "The obvious, you mean?"

Lin leaned back and tried to relax his runaway thoughts. "At the time of the aforementioned events—were…you aggravated—or happy—any sort of intense emotion?"

Mai paused to think, blushed momentarily when one of the three scenarios crossed her mind, but then refocused herself with a straight face. "All three times I was a _little_ pushed out of shape," she admitted in an underwhelming response.

Meaning impulsive, stupid and angry—Mai's outbursts in a nutshell, for the most part, unless they were one of her justified rants of morality ('_No spirit_ [wicked or not]_ gets left behind'_ should have been her motto)—the ones that sent Naru flying off into his own juvenile fit when she went headfirst into her knight-in-shining-armor act.

Speaking of the young scientist…the one who would be here at any moment…

Lin fixed her with a look. "Was Naru present on all three occasions?" Lin asked, his mouth covered by his steepled hands.

Though she looked distracted with her eyes fixed on the wall beside him, Mai answered much faster this time. "Yes, though at different times," she snapped. Her ire wasn't directed at Lin, but he could still feel the heat coming off that statement.

Lin tried for another angle. "And anywhere prior to these events did you use any facet of your capabilities—or perhaps, did you manifest any of Naru's powers? Don't give me that look, Mai-san. Its entirely possible. You've been absorbing his ki. Why wouldn't you be able to manifest it physically?"

Mai sighed heavily, burying her head between her knees. "Naru already told me I shouldn't be able to. Spiritual psychic, not a physical psychic. He said I don't have the pathways or something." She shot him a pleading look. "I don't understand half the psychic-babble that comes out of his mouth. I could only nod my head the whole time—I was a bobble-head doll!"

"Just the mere fact that you _can_ absorb his energy is telltale. You shouldn't be able to do that, but you are." Lin sat back again and closed his eyes, contemplative. "I cannot see why you wouldn't be able to do this."

When he opened his eyes, the one eye Mai could see fixed her with a piercing look. He obviously was taking this all very seriously. Mai enjoyed the thought of two psychic experts on her side. It made bearing all her incessant stupidity—not stupidity, just ignorance of her own abilities—feel less of a burden.

"You've always been a bit of a psychic phenomenon yourself, Mai. Don't underestimate yourself."

Mai held her hand up like she was holding a wand and flicked her wrist around a couple times. "Then why—" flick, flick, "am I so utterly useless," flick, "right now?" She dropped her hand. "Don't answer that. I'm not sure I want to know."

The corner of his mouth edged upward. "Maybe touching an object of Lennie's let you see the past."

Mai fidgeted. "We all know I'm post-cognitive. The vision's nothing out of the ordinary."

"Seeing a vision outside the case _is_ out of the ordinary when it comes to you," Lin pointed out.

Mai ignored him—Lin noticed that was happening a lot today. "Can we really tell the difference between one of my visions and Naru's psychometry?"

Lin closed his eyes, and his lower lip bowed upward as he considered it. "Was your vision green?"

Mai squinted at him. "What? Green like how?"

Lin sighed. _Just answer. _"Was your vision tinted any color—green would be the most likely indicator."

Mai focused a stare at Lin like he had an unsightly growth of hair between his eyebrows.

"Never mind," he addended. "So before your encounter with Naki you had just displayed some of your power. And with the car, did you—"

"Right before I nearly walked into traffic—"

"Right before _you did _walk into traffic," Lin corrected.

Mai rolled her eyes. Lin noticed in some ways she was still very much a child. "Fine. Right before _that_ everything with the creepy ghosts had happened in the subway—"

"The Tube," Lin said shortly.

Mai turned redder as she looked to be withholding a shriek. Lin thought better of correcting her again.

"The Tube, _whatever_. Naru was calling his own power and I was thinking of exacting the nine words on all those freaky ghosts…" Mai's morality compass slipped noticeably south when the ghosts tended to be uglier and scarier—or maybe it was that they might have attacked her.

Lin held his hands up as if he was balancing her very thoughts in his palms. "Either way power was called. That might explain why you were warning-blind to both encounters when the risks presented themselves. That small display of power drained you of what little control you had."

"The nine words isn't part of my power. Bou-san taught me that."

Lin frowned, then explained, "Anyone can use the incantation, Mai, but not everyone has psychic ability to boost the nine words, say like you or I could. That's why we only use it when there is imminent danger."

Mai's features twisted into a smile as the thought of _risks_ 'presenting themselves' and _imminent danger._ Sometimes the way that Lin and Naru spoke was just so _bizarre_.

Her father had always said, _'why use a five-yen word when a one-yen word will do?'_

She waved her hands when his own look darkened on her. "Sorry, sorry. It's just so much funnier when you're saying it aloud and not reading it from a book. _Risks presenting themselves. Imminent danger! _Sounds so serious," she laughed, delighted.

Not entirely pleased with her, Lin broached the subject he knew she was least willing to confront as a small form of retribution. Lin petty? No way.

"And the vision with Lennie. _The not-green one,_" he said dryly.

Mai blew out a breath. "It _wasn't_ green!" She insisted, but right after her mouth cinched shut as she didn't want to say anymore.

"What did you see?" He pressed.

"Nothing, it's embarrassing." Mai looked away, and waved him off.

"It's either nothing, or it's embarrassing." The statement made Lin feel ages older. It was definitely something his mother had said to him once upon a time. And that made Lin feel _even older_. His mood sunk drastically.

From the way her features were flushed abnormally scarlet, and the way she wouldn't meet his eyes, Lin had a peculiar feeling he knew exactly what her vision might have been about.

He went out on a limb and ventured a guess. "What adults do isn't embarrassing." Mai's eyes guiltily shrank to the side.

"_So says an adult." _She muttered, her eyes widened briefly, but she hid it well.

Lin felt like this was going to be a little like pulling teeth with the young woman. Mai swallowed but continued without any prodding necessary. Timid yet still professional as she knew any information could possibly be of help.

"It was intimate, but I didn't see anything worthwhile. There was a strange man in it. Blond, about Naru's height."

The clues started piecing together in Lin's mind. "A stranger, someone you didn't know? Or a strange man as in different or weird? There's a distinction," he prodded.

Mai shook her head. "Just a stranger. I didn't know him, though he looked normal enough."

"Maybe you had a vision and were meant to use it to blackmail Leonie." Lin smiled as the dour look slipped off Mai's face to be replaced by a tooth-filled grin. "Or perhaps it was something important that we're overlooking." Mai's look soured again, her expression tense as she considered the possibility.

"You don't think—"

"No, there's no haunting in that building. Too many variables working against it."

"But it's a gathering of psychics—that for one could draw entities in," she argued.

"Mai, I'm not sure if you noticed, but that place is warded to the teeth. And its protected by some of the strongest psychics in the world. They aren't there just for mere testing. Lennie, Corwin and Clay also _live_ in that facility. "

The look on the younger girl's face twisted in puzzlement. "Clay?"

Lin sighed, knowing he'd let something slip before he'd been able to look it over. "Clay, the third in-house psychic. And the one who I think you saw in your vision. He's blond, and around Naru's size, though a little more filled out. His description would fit."

Mai's lowered her eyes, considering it. Before long thoughts were flitting over her face. Naru was right. The girl was an open book.

"What exactly is going on with Naru? And is there anything we need to be worried about?" Her tone was anxious and the abrupt turn of conversation threw him.

"Hmm?"

"Naru…now that he's fully capable of…using his powers," Mai turned her big doe eyes on him, worry evident in her face, "are we…should we be ready to stop him?"

Lin carefully chose his words. "I'll be frighteningly honest with you, Mai-san. There isn't much that could hold him down now. Even at his…lowered capabilities."

Mai controlled herself, but couldn't keep everything in. Her pitch rose. "…You're saying not much could stop him….What could?" She said, a little breathily.

Lin bobbed his head, weighing the thought. He didn't want to give Mai any more crazy ideas. She was trouble enough on her own.

Lin conceded, "As of right now, I would say nothing, but hypothetically—no, never mind that."

"Tell me!"

A heavy pause settled between them. Mai was gripping the edge of the couch under clenched fingers, clearly apprehensive while Lin considered the last option that he'd heard of. The idea hadn't been his, but it was equally dangerous. Mai was the last failsafe they would have, so perhaps sharing it with her wasn't an ill-advised idea.

"I would assume _you_ could continue draining him, but I'm not sure how much natural energy you could handle, Mai-san." His face grew taut and troubled. "You're a spiritual psychic. Your powers aren't based on physical abilities like Noll's p.k. There's a fundamental difference in your abilities. Your body shouldn't be able to handle it, and yet _it is—but_ the signs are pointing in that direction that you can't control this already. And they aren't _paltry_ warnings."

He gestured to her current state and let out a worrisome scoff. _"You're falling apart._ Look at you. Sleep deprivation. Low-blood pressure. Your eyesight is deteriorating. You're having s_eizures._ Mai, you're coming apart at the seams."

Silence.

Mai's mouth hung open slightly, then she swallowed and whispered, "Well…when you put it like that…"

Lin grew more tense at her underwhelming response to her well-being. "There's no telling what else will happen to you. This is entirely unprecedented territory which means I would ask you to refrain from sharing this with Dr. Oehler and Dr. Brandt. They are scientists first and foremost. Your welfare isn't entirely in their best interests."

"I would be a guinea pig," she said simply.

"Precisely," he agreed, then added, "Also, don't speak with Noll of this."

"What—why?"

"He may have already figured this out on his own, but I'd like to keep this as discreet as possible."

"You don't trust him?"

"I don't trust him to keep himself safe—Noll doesn't possess many forms of restraint when it comes to a situation as hypothetical as this—much like someone else I know." He stared meaningfully at her. "You've seen him…and now the horses are out of the stable."

Mai looked charmingly confused. "Um, what?"

Lin heard himself for the first time, and noted how intense he was sounding, undoubtedly it wasn't missed by Mai. He was troubled, that much was obvious. And if _he_ was letting it slip. Well, she was right to be worried herself then. "His power. He won't want to rein it. I can't imagine the constant pressure of his power building up day after day. It must be such a relief to finally use it. When dealing with Noll, these are things to take into account. He doesn't indulge himself much. As such, when something comes up that is this important to him, you can imagine he would…let it run a little wild."

Mai chuckled at this. "Agreed, Lin-san. So what do we do with him?"

"The only thing we can do: negotiate with him."

"Or?" She asked because she could feel it hanging in the air like an oncoming storm.

"Or he concedes defeat. Simple as that. Which it won't be. Nothing with Naru ever is."

Mai stood and wrapped the blanket around her that had been pooling at her waist.

She smiled beatifically at him. Even after the heavy talks she was still as bright and chipper as ever. "Another cup of tea?"

Lin looked down at his cup, surprised to see that he had indeed drunk it all without noticing. He looked back up to her and took her own mug out of her hand, and together they headed into the kitchen.

"Absolutely."

* * *

A short chapter into the mind of Lin. He's being a tad bit sneaky, but then again, so are Naru and Mai….just give them time.

_

* * *

_

Next: Chapter 8: Clay


	9. Clay

**History of War**

_Chapter 8: Clay_

_

* * *

_

11.23.10

* * *

A reminder:

"**Bold" = in English**

* * *

Mai was…confused.

It wasn't altogether a new experience for her—being confused—but one that she had resigned herself to and knew would be commonplace should she choose to stick around one Oliver Davis, better known as Naru, for an extended period of time (which, she indeed, planned to).

When Lin informed Mai that he had phoned Naru while she had been comfortably unconscious on the couch, Mai had taken the remaining time until Naru's arrival to guess what Naru's potential course of action would be.

He would, either:

**A.**) Sit for five minutes on the couch across from her in an uncomfortable silence, unnerving her to the point of combustion, at which point, Mai would blow up (because she became irrationally defensive when it came to Naru and his judgmental demeanor).

Then when she had finished divulging everything that had happened to her in a thought-by-thought breakdown, Naru would interrupt her (to insult her), then natter on at her in an extensive list of why she was impractical and tell her '_what you should have done_.' He would say it in a thoroughly condescending voice (to annoy her) and then he would call her stupid (which would _insult _**and **_annoy_ her).

Or

**B**.)He would knock the apartment door down with his newly reined-in P.K. power, _**and then**_ rant at her about an extensive list of things she should already know by now.

And since Naru was neither known for illogical fits of anger, nor in any way uncontrolled, Mai settled for option 'A.'

She was _almost_ right.

Naru was, indeed, sitting across from her, glowering something fierce. Check.

He was also wasn't speaking a word to her. Awkward Silence, check.

The silence was distinctly unnerving as she had suspected it would be (again, check) but instead of withstanding a mere **five** minutes, it was currently going on **fifteen**minutes (which was why she was currently wondering how her estimate had been so miscalculated).

Mai held steady against his strict scowl. She chalked up her uncharacteristic bravery (in such a trivial matter) to lack of sleep.

They were at an impasse.

Perceptive and frosty blue eyes peered at her over folded hands held aloft. Most times, Mai loved those eyes—striking, brilliant, much like the man himself. Beautiful midnight blue unlike anything she'd ever seen—but right now, she wanted to poke them _hard._

Before he had nailed her down to the couch with an impatient jerk of his head ('sit _down_,' in silent Naru-speak), Naru had gestured for Lin to follow him out to the hall where they had spoken in hushed tones that Mai couldn't understand—even with the empty glass cup pressed from her ear to the wooden door.

When the two tall and dark men returned, neither looked even remotely upset which shouldn't have surprised her since both had the emotional capacity of snails. Lin merely went into the kitchen to fix tea for the two of them like normal, which he then delivered and took up a seat perpendicular to Naru and herself.

That had been ten minutes ago.

Which was probably why Mai was so confused.

She didn't know what was going on from Naru's seeming lack of reaction.

Finally, Lin sighed, giving up on any pleasant pretense. "Naru," he stressed appealingly.

Naru's eyes flicked to his Chinese assistant then quickly back to Mai which caused her to flinch under the momentum. Their mutual boss inhaled through his nose and dropped his hands into his lap in a refined manner, likely announcing his intent to speak.

Still, Naru sat silent, saying nothing. Lin, probably as irked as either of the two teenagers at the moment, set his tea cup down on the saucer with an audible clink and swung to face Mai in a jerky movement.

After a moment, Lin breathed deeply, and slammed a hand down against the coffee table in the best impression of Naru Mai had seen in awhile. (The teacup and saucer in his other hand hadn't even trembled.)

"_Idiot," _Lin said with hard-lined animosity.

Mai blinked at him owl-eyed in a charmingly stunned fashion. The corner of her mouth twitched, her mind confused between wanting to smile, but still half caught off-guard at the blatant offense. She settled for a muddled confused and amused look.

Lin turned to face Naru. "There, I've insulted her for you. No need for you to work yourself up to it. She's suffered your silent treatment long enough," he declared in as much exasperation as Lin ever demonstrated.

Lin fixed Mai with another intense glare. "In as simple a fashion as possible: Desist with your dense behavior. If you are suffering, or experiencing something out of the ordinary, inform us. You have two of the leading psychic researchers in the world at your residential disposal." He looked at her almost pleadingly. "_Utilize your resources._ The 'suffering-in-silence' bout only works when people do not find out about it and _Mai_, when it comes to perception, do you believe you could slip something like this past either of us?"

"No," Mai replied innocently, her hands knotting themselves in her lap.

"Then quit insulting us," Lin almost snapped. "And _second_, you only have so many remaining days in London. You can't miss too much of school. Your school's break ends in a week and we had only accounted for you missing three days of school after that. If we are to complete this _testing _at the facility, we need to assist Doctors Oehler and Brandt alike as much as is feasible if only to expedite this process."

"We came here for the purpose of understanding your fluctuations in power, and possibly beginning the arduous process of _taming _it. So far we've only accomplished mucking up the results with your Continental Instability, a poor showing on my behalf, but more so on Naru. Now, Naru and I have devised several possible solutions to rectify that, but the board Chairman has insisted we let Doctor Brandt try his hand at this. So _we've_ acquiesced."

Mai didn't like the stress Lin said that with. It meant one or both of them hadn't entirely given their consentat all, or they had been coerced to do so.

Lin continued, voice dropping an octave. "And to add on to the _pleasantness_ that this journey has proved to be thus far, the Board of Supervisors has begun asking on results, an added pressure as we have _none _to show for it."

"Ah," Mai replied hollowly.

Lin told her, "We need results in short order, or put simply, our funding will be cut."

Mai found her voice. "Funding for this trip?" She gaped.

Lin shook his head. "For Shibuya Pyschic Research. Dr. Brandt has been trying to placate the board members with the video of you and Lennie—"

Mai interrupted disbelievingly, "You mean Dr. Oehler?"

"No, I mean Dr. Brandt, as he is as interested in your trials as we are. Possibly more so than anyone if he believes you are capable of half the things we claim you are. He has expended a tremendous effort on our behalf to continue your study." Lin glanced out the window, possibly admiring the brick wall across from them, but probably just deep in thought.

"Okay," Mai said, and immediately began to drag two brown boots from under the coffee table that neither man had noticed before.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Mai tucked the edge of her jeans into one boot. "I won't let S.P.R. suffer a budget cut because old geezer's doubt me." She jammed her socked foot into the other boot.

"Worried for me?" Mai tensed at the caustic tone.

It was the first thing Naru had uttered this morning, and it was scathing in application.

Fixing a stern expression to her face, she spun sharply to Naru and tilted her head in a defiant manner, her lips drawn into a thin line.

"S.P.R. provides supplemental income to not only myself, but to all of _our_ friends," she countered decisively in an firm tenor. She jerked her other boot on. "_You_, I'm never worried about. You'll come out of this unscathed. You always do," she said quickly, clenching and unclenching her fist. "You're much like a cockroach—" She tapped the toe of her boot against the floor to loosen the fabric tucked inside. "—nothing short of a nuclear warhead would stop you from emerging from the rubble, and even then…" She scoffed.

Naru rose and slid his arms into his jacket, a silent acquiescence in his movements, but no rebuke.

Without commenting, he began to straighten the collar of his shirt and buttoned his jacket before turning to face the pair of them. It took a moment for Mai to realize he was _coming with her. _The knowledge warmed and pleased her. Angry with her or not, he wouldn't miss this.

She grabbed her own jacket and sidled up next to him by the door, aware of the distance between them. The half-step he took away from her let her know this clearly wasn't over, only currently delayed until Lin was distracted, or 'conveniently absent.'

"Ready?" Naru called over his shoulder to Lin as he unlatched the door.

"Of course," Lin replied mildly.

Naru turned to Mai and rapped her on the crown of her head firmly.

"Idiot," he added for good measure, and they headed out the door.

* * *

On the way back to that detestable place known as the S.P.R., Naru wanted to make a quick stop at the local market. Ever since Mai had started draining his Ki reserves, Naru's appetite had grown considerably larger. Much to Mai's dismay, while Naru's appetite increased, her own appetite had become pitifully miniscule.

_Life was unfair. _

Mai, who treasured food far more than Naru did, had to watch the idiot scientist relish every last bit of his strawberry crepe—he even considered his fingers that were coated with a fine layer of powdered sugar greedily before he controlled himself and wiped them clean with a handkerchief.

Mai held the back of a hand to her mouth as her stomach turned. Lin merely quirked a brow at their ravenous boss.

While Naru ventured further into the market searching for a quick lunch (_more_ food?), Mai had wandered into the bookstore next door, mostly to escape having to watch Naru enjoy his crepe too much, but also for one of Mai's favorite guilty pleasures:

Trashy magazines.

Pity they were all in English.

Mai looked down at the newsstand and tried to recognize the familiar layout of a tabloid. Square in format, with large pictures, big bold words like 'devastated,' 'affair,' or 'illegitimate child' scrawled across the top. Or something along that vein.

She browsed the racks for anything interesting; namely, raunchy tabloids, celebrity trash-talk and other less reputable pieces of mass media. Her eyes briefly flitted over the more highly regarded magazines, ones with articles of topics like ending world hunger, potential alternative treatments for eczema patients and heartrending stories of warlords disappearing money from charity funds in the heart of Africa.

With not the smallest amount of guilt, Mai crept into the tabloid section and edged away from the Pulitzer-winning rack. She selected one. Twins covered the front, apparently unaware that he had been two-timing the both of them. Mai tried to subdue her smile.

A voice startled her. Naru.

"Don't you feel the least bit guilty supporting the invasive nature of these newspapers?" Mai risked a glance over her shoulder, but only to make sure her boss wasn't munching away on any other bit of food. Fortunately, he wasn't.

She turned to him fully as he continued. "The paparazzi sit in trees to stalk the would-be celebrities from house and home to grocery shopping with their kids." Naru had a particularly dark look in his eyes. Disdain.

Mai shook her head. "When you choose fame or public office, you knowingly accept everything that comes with it. Any publicity is good publicity, right?"

"Hmm," Naru said thoughtfully, voice drawling. He glanced over the magazine in his own hands. "You're a publicity agent now, are you?"

Curious, Mai leaned onto his arm, peering at the publication he had in his hand. It was littered with a collage of pictures, stemming from odd stainless steel machinery whose bulkheads were littered with lots of little buttons and switches (kind of like a lab she knew) to men and women in white coats…until Naru wrenched it out of view.

Mai stretched onto her toes and tried to look him in the eye. She recognized a tabloid when she saw it and stared at him knowingly. He didn't flinch. "What are _you_ reading?" She asked inquisitively.

Naru turned away his back to her, slipping the publication from her view. "A tabloid."

Mai wrinkled her nose and circled him to get a better look. "A tabloid?" She said measuredly. "A _scientific_ tabloid?" She added, the pitch of her voice rising in puzzlement when she saw test tubes and beakers.

Naru shrugged nonchalantly, the best answer she was going to get, and turned the page. Mai put her hand on the top of the magazine and pushed it down to her eyelevel, so she could see it better. "Is that French?" She inquired, noting the language on the cover.

"London _is_ a world hub," Naru said mockingly, "It isn't strange that there would be a French tabloid here." He removed her hand from the magazine by pinching the top of her hand, so he could turn another page.

Flipping it shut suddenly, he thrust it into her hands, and gave her a challenging half-smile. "I think you'll find this article to your liking, have a look." He sauntered over to the other side of the stand and picked up a well-known newspaper and handed the purveyor change.

Mai glared expressly over the stand at him, a question in her glance. She was short enough that he could only see her eyes and the tip of her brown head stand's top rim, which made her severe look diminish from venomous to merely amusing.

"It's _French," _she pointed out_. _Then, when he didn't pay attention, insisted loudly_, "I can't __**read**__ French._" Mai scuttled after him and grabbed the edge of his sleeve, jabbing at the publication again. "And neither can you if I remember correctly," she said archly and narrowed her eyes. Naru tugged his coat sleeve out of her grasp and idly perused another section, blatantly ignoring her, and obviously waiting for her to take the bait.

Mai huffed, but flipped the magazine over in her hand, intent of discovering what had held Naru's fervent curiosity. Naru recommending a trashy magazine? If that wasn't enough to pique her curiosity…

The front cover wasn't anything amazing. The front was littered with several pictures. The main photo was an enlarged shot of an old Victorian house taken at night in all black and green hues. The image was pixelized due to being blown up past its resolution capacity and was likely from a video camera—which would explain the low quality of the image.

And it was definitely night vision. The green imaging was telltale. She had spent hours watching monitors in the same sage and ebony shades while hunting ghosts and this one was far less interesting.

Around the edges of the front cover, several smaller pictures were framed in white borders with colorful clipped captions. She licked a finger and flicked open the front cover.

Inside the first page advertised a deck of tarot cards, one skeleton: death, another was of two swords, blah blah.

Next page: Two frogs, vivisected, intestines, lungs, other organs bulging—boring.

Another photo: a vague image of a shadowed figure behind a couch and red eyes that peered out from the darkness of a cellar.

_Not even creepy in the slightest. _Mai was unfazed. She had seen bloated and disfigured creatures crawling across ceilings covered in bodily fluids Mai didn't want to know of.

The next page: pedestrians on the street, a man and a woman ducking between people.

_Bad picture, _Mai thought, grimacing, _awful hair_, noting the woman's wind-tossed mane.

Mai tried to make sense of the foreign language caption. Of course, since she didn't speak nor read a lick of French…

Her eyes widened and she hesitantly brushed her hand against the article, underlining two words with the sweep of her finger.

She would, however, forever be able to recognize a certain combination of letters, a name—_Naru's name, one Oliver Davis—_thatwas instantly recognizable in any language as long as the letters were of Latin origin. The paper abruptly slipped from her fingertips, falling unceremoniously on the ground.

Coming back over, Naru bent down in front of the petrified Mai to recover the fallen magazine. He held up the magazine for her view again only inches from her face.

Mai gaped as she eyed the front cover once more.

Naru casually bit into an apple (_where had that come from?)_ and after he was finished chewing a small piece, swallowed and said ever so carefully, "Sympathy for those celebrities now?"

Catatonic, Mai stared fixedly at the corner of the cover. A man and woman, bordered in white, with a small blurb of French below, alleging who-knows-what.

The woman dressed in a familiar red jacket.

The man in eternally identifiable black.

_Her and Naru. _

Across the front of the magazine in shiny block letters read, it read:

_L'Hebdomadaire Hanter._

Mai's forlorn expression twisted.

When translated, she knew it would read something like _The Weekly Haunt._

_

* * *

_

Getting back in the habit of going back into the lab was the easy part. As long as no one mentioned that awful photo of her in a national (regional?) magazine, she would consider the day a success.

The pattern had become a simple one.

_Take a taxi (never the Underground—never again, at least)— avoid the rude stranger in front of the office who still wore the three-piece brown suit—_

—_breeze through security (remembering a passport, of course)—_

—_call the elevator (select floor, then stick a hand between the doors, so that other people could get in while Naru unabashedly and __**obviously**__ held down the 'Doors Close' button—Mai had never been so embarrassed)—_

—_politely apologize to elevator passengers in shabby English— _

—_kick Naru in the shin when he is completely unapologetic—_

—_check in with reception desk on S.P.R.'s main floor, avoid all invasive doctors and prying psychics until last minute, maybe __**altogether **__if possible—_

—_Slip into testing center, hopefully unnoticed—_

"**Well, that vacation didn't last very long**," Corwin said as Mai walked through the door.

—_And fail miserably at it._

Mai cringed, caught the word 'vacation' in English and knew vaguely what he was referring to.

She sighed heavily, already too agitated to deal with Corwin and walked around the persistently vexing, though charming, psychic. Corwin trailed behind her, maintaining some distance, his attention rapt on the publication. Mai tried to ignore the familiar tabloid between his fingers.

Mai absently touched the back of her head and then brushed her fingers through it, trying to straighten out the mess.

Corwin broke the silence. "Does your hair really look like that in the back?"

Mai bristled, arms tightening to her sides, prepared to give him an earful but fell silent at his sheepish grin. She swallowed hard, quelling the memory that threatened to emerge: a certain, ghostly guide of hers smiled at her like that whenever he had been in trouble with her, but Gene was allowed the privilege. Gene had earned her easy smile and forgiveness. Corwin hadn't.

Corwin's smile dimmed at Mai's suddenly contemplative look. He had never seen the chipper Japanese girl with such a forlorn look. Seeing his own expression fall, Mai tried to give him a reassuring smile in return.

He tried to dodge Mai's darkening mood by delving into the article. He hemmed and hawed appropriately, guffawing until she chuckled encouragingly. "Well, he _is_ ill-tempered," he nodded, agreeing with the article. His mouth twisted like he swallowed something sour. "Though calling him a 'prince' is quite…a stretch," he said lightly after he saw Mai watching him raptly.

Her mouth dropped open. "Prince!" She cried indignantly, and threw her hands up. "They did _not_."

Corwin raised an eyebrow, but felt optimistic at the turn of the girl's emotions. "I think the correct translation is actually 'noble,' not Prince," he said in an overly serious tone. "I think the British court would be insulted to have him included in their ranks." Corwin closed one eye in thought. He shook his finger in the air absently. "Bit of a black sheep, that one."

"You read French?" Mai asked, curious.

Corwin bared his teeth in an unabashed grin. "You'd like to think so, but sadly no. Clay translated some of it for me."

"Clay—your other psychic?"

Corwin nodded, affirming it. "Yep. He's half-French." He shrugged, and then brushed the gray fringe that had fallen into his eyes out of his face. "I mostly caught the words he was saying when he wasn't clenching his teeth. I think Clay's not too fond of your boss." Corwin's eyebrows rose suggestively, then tilted his head, the barest smile blooming on his face. "…speak of the devil, and it shall come," he said, looking over the top of her head and down the hall behind her.

"Naru," Mai groaned and whipped around, expecting trouble. If Naru heard the 'prince' part of the article, _it would never end…_

"Oh my—" Mai's eyebrows pinched. Behind her, she saw the blond man from her vision with Lennie. The man who had been intent on licking her (not hers—Lennie's—she reminded herself) lips so attractively, as well as those roaming hands that curved around her waist… She smacked her own cheek lightly three times to shake the memory that had nearly come over her. Handsome, though he may be, he had no idea that he had been an unwitting participant in one of her visions—an _avid_ participant.

Mai fought a losing battle against the flush creeping into her cheeks until she was sure she was beet red.

Her mouth felt chalky at the memory…and abruptly she didn't want to meet S.P.R.'s remaining in-house psychic Barclay, or Clay for short, quite then with the memory so fresh and palpable on the surface. It might be embarrassing, say, if he wanted to shake her hand and the physical memory sucked them both under. Mai jammed her hands firmly in her jean pockets.

From down the hall, Clay walked towards them, an uneven step in his gait.

_Stumbling actually, _Mai noted with concern as his feet drug noticeably across the carpeted floor. He was oddly…sluggish in his movements. One hand was braced against the wood to steady himself. _What…?_

Corwin noticed Mai's apprehension. "_What_—It's just… Clay?"Corwin said, the same question and anxiety obvious in his voice as in Mai's thoughts.

A gasp tumbled from her lips as Clay's foot caught the carpet and he tripped, this time unable to catch himself. Mai reacted quickly, and pushed past Corwin to catch the unfamiliar psychic before he hit the ground (something she wished her Japanese coworkers had the foresight to do whenever she was going under a vision). The blond psychic collapsed heavily against her and she sagged visibly. Groaning, she stumbled backward under Clay's larger frame. Mai did her best not to touch any of his skin. She eased to her knees as his shoulder sharply dug into her stomach.

"Nice catch," Corwin called, grabbing Mai's arm to steady her.

"I'm _familiar_ with the signs," she said with a partly apprehensive smile. "A little help?" Her eyes shone with worry as he started to sag further against her.

Corwin took the majority of Clay's weight and together eased him to the ground. Startlingly, his eyes were wide open and had taken on an ocher tinge, an unnatural color that unnerved her.

Mai heard sharp footsteps, the sound of snapping heels, echo down the hallway. She craned her neck to see Naru and Lin heatedly pacing towards them. She wilted with relief.

"How did you…" she barely got out before Naru interrupted her.

He shook his head absently, looking down at the psychic cradled in her lap. "You're _always_ in trouble."

_Of course_, Mai thought embarrassedly.

"Monitors," Lin amended and pointed at the ceiling.

_Oh, _she realized_, _then, "_Jerk_," she called, eying Naru.

Naru ignored her and studied Clay. His eyes traced over the man in front of them, wondering at his condition and where to even begin with a diagnosis.

Clay's eyes flickered open and closed rapidly, his mouth moving breathlessly in silent words.

"Um, Naru," she prodded tentatively after he had spent half a minute silent. Mai checked Clay's pulse with two fingers against his wrist. His pulse was racing—Naru smacked her hand away. Mai scowled heatedly at Naru, one eyebrow lifted in challenge. Naru afforded her a brief glance, but his eyes quickly swept back over Clay.

Corwin's hands replaced Mai's. His palms skimmed over Clay in slow sweeping motions first over his head then across his chest and abdomen.

The familiar feeling of ants crawling on her skin made her clench her fingers.

"Shh," Naru hushed her when she began to speak.

What was that feeling? What was Corwin doing? _How could she help?_

Mai sat back on her heels, face heating up.

Heat began to build somewhere behind her navel in what she was beginning to recognize as Naru pulling at his power. Energy rushed through her and she withheld a gasp at the feeling of vertigo—her stomach flipping. She gasped and covered her mouth as the urge to retch hit her.

Lin eyed her intently, but ignored Naru's sometimes eccentric assistant when she waved him off.

Panic crept over her in a slow crawl, worming its way into the pit of her stomach.

She was starting to leech from him again. _Leech—_how she hated that word, though it was no less true.

Cold flooded her until feeling fled her fingers. She bit her cheek hard in an effort to focus. Dread. Only bad things happened when she felt this way. Mai rocked on her heels and tried to restrain herself—she really did—but then she lunged for Naru, unable to suppress the apprehension ringing like bells in her head, only to be caught by Lin. Lin was nothing if not attentive and observant of his sometimes ward. His arms caught her neatly around the middle and pulled her back.

"Stop him," she whispered in trepidation, pushing at Lin's hands with vigor.

Lin tensed. "Taniyama-san—wait, he's fine—" Lin's Japanese always became imperfect and choppy when he was troubled by something and this was one such occasion. Mai understood the feeling.

Lin had not one, but two short-fused time bombs in his hands at all times. One was an all-powerful narcissist who thought himself invincible, but was far more vulnerable than he knew. And the other, an uncompromisingly compassionate girl who thought it was her born duty to save everyone even at her own expense and sometimes at others'.

Lin , already so preoccupied with his own ward who was prone to life-endangering situations because of his own innate powers, also had to worry over Mai who had the same disturbing life-threatening tendencies, only more frequently.

_It was nearly impossible to stop someone so determined to fall on the sword at any given moment, _ Lin thought as he held the distraught girl under his arm. The only way to counter the predilection was to always expect it and that in itself exhausted Lin at times.

Mai suddenly relented her struggles, an odd expression coming over her face.

The tickle behind her navel faded unexpectedly. The anxious feeling choking her so thoroughly only moments ago abated. It happened so abruptly, Mai didn't have time to steady herself before the feeling like the floor had dropped from beneath her encompassed her. She swayed unsteadily to the side, held up by only Lin's support.

Unfamiliar Power edged into her awareness like the silk across her skin. Not P.K. It was much gentler than Naru's bitter and heady power. It wasn't coming from her or Lin though.

It wasn't Clay who lay prone in front of them, only twitching occasionally.

In Lin's arms she struggled to turn to the psychic at her left.

Corwin…

Corwin sat rigid, his expression tense and lips pursed as he focused on the matter at hand in the first display of his power Mai had observed. Mai swallowed hard. Corwin was the light-hearted type. Who was this steely stranger? But peculiar than the serious expression on Corwin's face were his _hands_.

They were glowing! Corwin's hands were dimly lit in a faint violet hue seeming to come from his under his very skin…and Mai had no doubt that it was the source of the power running over her so soothingly. _Did Corwin know that he could affect the entire room that way?_

Even Naru was mildly sedated as she looked up to find him watching her through heavy-lidded eyes.

His brow pinched perceptibly when he noticed that she too was unmoved by Corwin's power…

A cocky, knowing look entered his eyes. It was almost too intimate between them, sharing such a—

Mai glanced away sharply, embarrassed at thoughts that had been so obvious on her face. Ones he might actually reciprocate? Mai didn't want to know. She squeezed her eyes shut tight.

_Corwin's power probably wasn't enough to subdue the ki she had amassed from Naru in the last days,_ Mai reasoned. _Which explains Naru's smug demeanor. He knows it's his power holding Corwin's at bay._

Mai's expression soured.

In the violet light, the gray-haired psychic's face was pallid, neutral, and expressionless. _And maybe, just maybe_, she thought, _he looked a little bit beautiful—_in the care he took with Clay and the raw emotion written into the lines of his face—nothing was hidden—though she would never say such embarrassing words aloud.

Mai wriggled out of Lin's grasp and sidled closer to Naru. Her anger already forgotten, she whispered admiringly, "_What's he doing_?" She leaned forward, placing her weight on her hands to get a better look.

Naru glanced at her while she watched Corwin with a reverent expression. She turned to him wide-eyed, a child wanting to know more, more, more.

"_Well,_" she insisted eagerly.

Naru lowered his chin, gazing at her through thick lashes. "He's a medical intuitive," he said evenly, impartial to her sudden interest. "They can perceive injuries, and sometimes diagnose problems if experienced enough."

Mai's mouth parted. "Is he experienced enough?" She said, asking the obvious.

"No," he said simply. Corwin glanced up at him, eyebrows drawn low in a furious expression at the younger man. Naru sat unresponsive, and waited for Corwin to say something.

A loud thud resonated in the floor. Across from Mai, Dr. Oehler appeared and hit her knees with her eyes set on Clay. "What's going on? Is he—"

Corwin interrupted her. "I think so. He's unresponsive—like last time."

Dr. Oehler took in a shaky breath, looking like she was about to cry and Mai felt her own throat tighten in sympathy. She had never seen the doctor so emotional.

"What are you seeing?" the doctor urged.

"There's nothing unusual until… about here." Corwin's hands hovered over Clay's lower abdomen. "It's brown fluid. Lower left, deep," he said identifying the area. "His intestines maybe…an overdose? The tissue could be bleeding," Corwin said tentatively.

Dr. Oehler shook her head. "No. This far over and if you say it's deeper. It's definitely kidneys." Dr. Oehler choked. "Renal failure…" Her voice faltered, breathing unevenly.

Below her, Clay started trembling, his body violently heaved upward.

"Corwin," Naru ordered, pointing to Clay's neck. Corwin followed immediately and placed his hand over Clay's neck.

"Hypertension," Corwin noted, his fingers rested under Clay's jaw line, and then gently traced his carotid artery.

Naru, Corwin and Dr. Oehler prattled senseless numbers and words back and forth as Mai sat anxiously.

Mai noticed Lin held a warning hand on her forearm, warning her against anything foolish—which Mai was always apt to do.

Seconds passed and Clay was tensing again, arcing off the ground. His teeth were clenched, but his eyes were open—he was coherent, and in obvious pain…but he couldn't control it…?

The blond curls of his head were dark and stuck to his forehead with the beginnings of perspiration.

Mai didn't understand, but whatever they had said about an overdose….seemed wrong. An overdose of what? Was he diabetic? She knew very little about Diabetes, only that sugar and insulin were somehow involved.

Clay exhaled in rough pants, the sound of air harsh as it caught in his windpipe. He coughed twice and tried to relax against the ground, his fingers clenched.

His lip moved, and Mai bent forward to accommodate him.

He was trying to say something.

Lin's hand tightened on her forearm, a taut reminder to Mai. She leaned forward using her weight against Lin's grip and half-pushed, half-fell against Corwin in an effort to hear what Clay was saying.

In the background, Mai dimly heard Dr. Oehler speaking in high-pitched tones. "—get her away from—"

But she didn't sound worried for Mai's safety, just angry, so Mai didn't pay any attention.

Clay's lips moved again. Mai was already terrible at English, so lip-reading was entirely out unless he spoke something she might recognize. Her lips pursed in concentration.

Mai's sight turned black at the edges and she wondered if she maybe had squinted too hard. It was like she was looking down the scope of a gun. Tunnel vision, loss of peripheral sight. Her heart fluttered and briefly felt as if—

Power flooded her, rushing back inward up her arms and pooling in her chest until her heart stuttered again (_that can't be good)_ and she felt her head tip back as if she had nodded off in class.

In her head, Mai thought she could almost hear each nerve firing individually, connecting, snapping together—it was lightning hot as it poured through her veins.

The edges of her vision turned from black to a violent green, to a blinding, iridescent white. Colors spun across the sides of her vision like colors were refracting off her eyelids. Her eyes ached from the intensity of it.

The tips of her fingers burned, felt white hot. Her hand brushed the carpet next to her leg and sensation like fire echoed across the skin. The sensation of needles bit at the tips of her fingers and she held in a yelp. _She was burning._ Her palms itched as she rested them against the carpet, shaking. Her thighs smoldered against the fabric of her jeans like they were made of hot coals. Anything she touched _hurt._

Sensory overload. Gene's lessons washed over her.

_Organs overactive. Especially the skin._

_Intolerance of high-pitched noises._

_Difficult to focus._

It had begun to hone in on her hearing when her vision completely shifted to black, blindfolded. She knew she was still in the hallway with everyone, but she wasn't unconscious. This wasn't a vision as usual.

Mai lifted her hand and wiggled it in front her face from half a meter away.

Nothing.

She tried 10 centimeters.

Nothing.

Three centimeters. Still nothing.

She couldn't see anything. _Great._

The former embers of the energy hummed across her skin. Mai tensed, grimacing and waited for the next flood of sensation.

Scared and unwilling to move, Mai sat frozen against the floor, worried that if she moved again, the lightning pulse of energy would burn her from the inside out, leaving her hollow, nothing.

Slowly, timidly, she folded over, sinking until her cheek was flush against the floor, smooth and cold like tile instead of the carpet she knew was the reality.

Her breath wheezed out as she exhaled. Tears threatened, but she quickly squeezed her eyes shut tight and pressed the back of her hands against her eyelids, rubbing roughly.

Though, she couldn't see it, the abyss around her grew wider. She could feel it, the endless space expanding around her. Awareness crept in from all angles.

Her eyes weren't open, but she knew what everything around her looked like. Where it was situated. Height. Width. Depth. Approximate Mass. What it would feel like in her hands.

The wood grain of the end table down the hall was cheap, flawlessly smooth: pressed board. Dr. Brandt had bought it himself from Borough Market, on some overcast Saturday in May.

_How did she know that?_

The flowers in the vase on top of the table were birds of paradise, a type of flower, only these were out of season, so they must have been grown indoors. Hydroponics. She saw a greenhouse with fluorescent lights and a woman with red hair: one of Dr. Brandt's office staff. Her face was bruised, a zygomatic arch fracture—car accident, two months ago. A life-saving airbag.

Mai shook her head, cried out silently, reaching for help.

"…Mai…"

Reassurance, even though that questioning tone of voice meant no such thing.

Mai whimpered, "Gene?"

She hadn't thought about him in weeks—hadn't seen him in longer, but that didn't stop the feeling from blooming in her chest, suppressing the lightning rampant in her system.

"Open your eyes."

She tried to turn towards the voice, but her muscles refused to budge. "Not such a good idea," she said uncertainly, voice shaking.

Mai felt a gust of air. He had kneeled next to her. She wanted to jerk away, but didn't for fear _it _would come back.

"Don't touch me!" She yelped when she knew his hand had been millimeters away.

Silence.

Mai _knew_ that silence. Thoughts buzzed around the room in that silence, so loudly her ears hurt.

"Not Gene," Mai said guardedly. "Naru."

He was probably smiling—actually _was _smiling self-depreciatively. She knew it.

"Figured out I'm not your favored twin much faster than I expected," he said disparagingly.

She gasped out breathily, "I can hear practically hear the gears turning in your head." She wanted to laugh.

"_Thinking,"_ he replied evenly, his voice belied the ire she knew he felt.

Mai sighed, knowing what he was thinking, but not from this utter _awareness_. The awareness stemmed from the physical realm, applied to only physical things. She knew what he was thinking simply because she'd been around him for so long.

Her face blanched. She hissed before he could accuse her, "No, I didn't touch anything strange. No, it isn't because of Clay, _I think. _And no, you did not eat too much sugar this morning. _This is not a hallucination_—this is definitely…something else," she said for lack of a real answer.

"…"

Mai never knew anyone else who could put so much emphasis behind ellipses.

"You're in a vision. All sensation is from your mind," he pointed out, sounding bored.

"…oh, so I'm _imagining _this," she bit back a laugh between clenched teeth. "And this isn't a vision," she argued. "I can _feel_ the real world. I'm still here."

"Does this look like the real world—_open your eyes already_, _Mai,_" he snapped.

With his last words echoing in the hall, Mai knew just as suddenly, he was gone.

So maybe she was in a vision. Just in an unusual variety of vision.

She cracked her eyes open, and risked a glance down the hall where she knew he stood.

The reason she was here, she was sure of it.

Clay.

Down the darkened hallway, in the minimal amount of black light, stood the unfamiliar psychic. The blond psychic looked just as pleased to see her as she was to see him from the annoyed expression on his face.

She saw his lips move, murmuring something undistinguishable—probably something rude from the sour look that puckered his lips.

Fogged, blue lights, circular in shape, floated up from the floor at his feet.

Will-o-wisps.

Mai liked will-o-wisps. They never attacked her unlike the nasty ghosts, demons, or other spiritual forms she often came in contact with.

Bouncing gently, they danced circles around Clay in a false sort of dance step, coaxing in a way—almost as if they were watching him with a kind of reverence.

They were friendly and benign spirit forms.

And were pretty in an esoteric way. Kind of like Mai herself. She really liked them and if they were in the vision, things couldn't be that bad.

Until one flew directly into her face and filled her vision with a sapphire luminance. The first contact dissolved any connection she had with the real world, and then on second strike severed any semblance left of real sensation—which began to separate her corporeal form from her body. Something exquisitely painful if Mai remembered some of her worse astral traveling adventures correctly.

She did recall the pain accurately. She shrieked, and fell into the white abyss.

* * *

The fog in her head was persistent.

Persistently _annoying._

She felt like she was on grassy knoll resting on her back as she watched the clouds pass over her—only this cloud ceiling was five feet above her head and refused to clear off, which proved rather boring _and _obnoxious.

It was just a white mess, but through the clouds she could hear the faint murmur of wind, then voices.

_Ah, that was the ceiling_, she noted.

In waking, her consciousness spread outward until she was sure she was back in her own body.

She flexed her toes and stretched languidly. Every movement was heaven—proof she wasn't dead and that she wasn't in excruciating pain anymore. Maybe _this_ _was_ heaven. She swallowed a sigh, not wanting to disturb the others, or call attention to herself yet. She was still luxuriating in the feel of true physical sensation. She began to hum pleasantly, and loved the way it rolled over her lips, buzzing happily. She bopped her head cheerfully to an inaudible beat.

She recognized the voices of Lin, Naru, Madoka (her heart sailed), and—oh god, no—

"So you're saying this isn't her first _accident_…"

Carefully placed stress on 'accident.' _Tread cautiously from here_, she warned the others silently.

"And no one thought to _call me_." A tone of warning in his voice. Parental admonishment—something Mai hadn't heard from her real parent's for nearly a decade, but had grown more accustomed to again when she had joined S.P.R. three years ago.

Mai froze.

That timber voice.

Mai sat up wearily, pushing wearily up onto her elbows. She was on a couch with a blanket placed askew over her which barely covered her lap.

Across the room, she saw a man. Tall, wiry in frame with a slight sag in his posture that spoke of youthful recklessness, something he clung to more desperately than he would ever admit.

The back of that blond mess of hair, just barely long enough to be tied into a ponytail. She loved that he was growing it out again. She had asked politely to do so, after all.

"Bou-san!" she chirped when she could no longer hold it in.

He whipped around at the sound of her voice. "Jou-chan," he responded in kind, sweeping her up into a tight hug, a broad grin on his face. Behind that careful smile was a layer of concern and relief. His too large frame enveloped her and worry was evident in his grip.

"Nice nap?" he quipped.

That dry sarcasm. _How she_ _missed it._

She sank into the hug, deflating as she felt reassurance flood through her. The walls of defensiveness she'd slowly been erecting around her caved in at his mere presence. She was so happy. A kind of happiness that make her sniffle and choke with relief. He was stability. He was familiarity. He was comfort and a protective, solid figure at her back all at once.

Still not relinquishing his hold on the diminutive girl, he looked at the rest of the group over her head, and said, indignantly, "I was sitting at the airport for two hours! No one bothered to check their messages?"

With slightly damp eyes, Mai raised her head to look at him and lifted her hands defensively, then pointed an accusing finger at Naru. "I can't get international calls. He didn't unlock my phone," she said meekly. Takigawa glared at Naru.

Naru returned an unaffected, blasé look. "I ignored your phone call," he said by way of explanation. Mai muffled a laugh into Takigawa's side. The monk gave her a heavy poke, a reminder of whose side she was supposed to be on.

Lin raised an eyebrow in response. "You don't have my number…for good reason it seems."

Madoka sauntered in closer, unwilling to be ignored. "You didn't call _me_," she said eerily chipper, which was Madoka in a nutshell. Always oddly _happy_.

Takigawa shrugged, which was his version of avoiding that remark. Madoka watched him knowingly.

All eyes followed her airy movements as she flitted closer and daintily extricated Mai from under Takigawa's arm. She beamed down at the shorter girl.

"He's hogging all your attention. Greet me properly," she said in a markedly more pleased tone than everyone else.

"Madoka," Mai said, grinning as they clasped hands. Mai's mood hovered ever higher. Madoka, while sometimes devious, was wonderful in her own way. She was a reliable female presence, something Mai had been missing from Ayako, her absent miko.

"How are you feeling?" Madoka asked, more than idle curiosity lining her voice.

"Better than…before," Mai marveled, surprised, for once, she could say that will all her heart.

* * *

_Next: Chapter 9: 10:34:06 _

The Point of Impact….


	10. The Art of Mai: The Cautionary Tale

**History of War**

_Chapter 9: The Art of Mai: The Cautionary Tale_

* * *

2.22.11

* * *

AN: What words do I have for you all? My sincerest thanks and my deepest regards, and my endless apologies for all your lovely, encouraging, and heartening reviews that I have had the dastardly gall not to respond to. So to each of you that took time out of your day to share an uplifting word, or an uplifting essay of a review I say Thank You. I've no other excuse except I have been incredibly busy, but I won't bother you with the details. We're **all** busy, eh?

Please Enjoy this chapter of the History of War. It's dedicated to every one of you who has stuck around for more than a year now. It will be finished. I couldn't do less of a service for those of you who have been patient enough with me.

Again, enjoy, but be warned, this chapter is easily as long as a one-shot, topping out at 10,000 words. A bonus for my delay, k?

* * *

The Ghostly Realm.

Not quite the unconscious world, nor quite yet the waking world either.

The In-Between.

Or in a way closer to Mai's heart: Gene's neck of the woods.

Even _if _the omni-present guardian ghost had been avoiding her as of late. To be more precise, she hadn't seen him ever since she had come to London, the metropolitan mess that was currently plaguing her with Continental Instability, sending her psychic capabilities into a thick, sluggish regression, and sent Naru's own power careening into motion like well-rusted gears that had experienced dim use for the past half decade of his life.

But it wasn't the Continental What-cha-ma-call-it that caused Gene to avoid Mai. Like the rest of her powers, Mai had felt a numbing, a spiritual shot of Novocain directly to her supernatural quirks, unable to recall what her powers felt like, let alone call them to use.

But that's not what had happened with Gene. Mai knew that much like herself, Gene couldn't completely ever bring himself to sever the connection between them, however frayed and tenuous it had become. Somewhere across the Spirit realm, Gene was floating, anchored to the end of a cord, the other end of which was firmly knotted around her own heart.

She felt the childish urge for want of attention and was tempted to tug on the cord, to send the consuming rush of bitterness she'd been hiding at him across the feeble cord in an undulant wave in hopes that the resulting tide of emotion might rise above his head, crash down and drown him like they were doing to her.

She felt mostly annoyance for him ignoring her, but also the solemn, cold wash of hurt and the angry pinch of resentment settled at the base of her sternum in a growing sense of pressure that would have to be released somehow, and soon, at that. Some of the ire was aimed at him, but also partially at herself, taking form of immediate self-loathing at her own inability to separate her heart from her head, like others seemed so easily and _readily_ capable of.

The tremulous cord was the only source of their communication, but she refrained from pulling the cord taut, oddly wary of him fully withdrawing from her completely. But her anxiety at him abandoning her was the least of her fears. Mai knew for herself the coward she truly was. She knew if she pushed, Gene wouldn't hesitate to push back, and that frightened her more than anything else. She knew he would send back his own answering tug, a short jerk of the line, a hollow kind of leave-me-alone that would cinch the cord painfully around her own heart like the rope of a noose around the neck. She would feel the emotions from him that she had been so carefully hiding from. Emotions she didn't want to think of let alone consider in their full capacity. It wasn't fair to pull and place such strain on such a fragile organ.

She could feel him hovering, casually brushing the edge of her awareness, far enough away that he had hoped she would leave him be, but close enough to maintain an annoying watchfulness over her. Fulfilling his job as her guardian ghost to the least degree, enough to let her know purposefully that he was still doing his job, but not entirely happy about it.

Well, the sour feeling of hostility was mutual, Mai thought with asperity.

But currently, Gene, and all the difficulty he presented, was not the dilemma.

Clay, however, was.

Mai felt a thought in her direction tingle down the ghostly cord, a formless question from her guardian. _Was there a problem? _she translated with little difficulty. Mai thought of ignoring Gene, but that would only make him more curious and thus involve him.

_Just practicing_, she thought back, an incoherent, jumbled mess of thought that twanged down the cord like a guitar string plucked by an unpracticed hand. Mai grimaced at the difference in their psychic skill. His message had been the delicate rustle of silk, hers had been the noisy cascade of crumpled paper tossed carelessly in his direction. She sighed, and stretched the connection further, thinning the line of communication until she was near numb to it. That would be an unreproachable message to him. _Go away._

He would sense her withdrawing and would think that she was attempting to regain her powers through the difficulty caused by Continental Instability. And that would be enough. He would leave her be for the present.

Down the darkened hallway, in the minimal amount of light ebbing through the perceived darkness of the spiritual realm, stood the unfamiliar psychic: blond, curly-haired Clay.

And he was in her dreamscape. Hence, _le problème._

_Damn,_ Mai thought. She'd been in Clay's presence for too long. She was _thinking_ in French, and nothing in that boded well, except that her abilities as a perfect medium (including the ability to think and speak in other languages with no trouble) had returned however temporarily. She didn't know the language, couldn't speak any other than Japanese and the bare amount of English with any fluency, but she could understand the meaning behind the words in her dreams easily enough and somehow relay a message to others in the same spiritual non-language. Weird, but undeniably handy.

In the mere moments she had known him, Mai knew Clay to be less charming by Corwin by half and more ambivalent than the dangerous and whiplash temper of Leonie.

In fact, Clay seemed less like his psychic brethren at first glance, and first psychic feel. Almost as if he wasn't of the psychic variety at all, and then just as quickly the same feeling, (the one she identified with 'nulls,' or non-psychic humans) the feeling of a void she'd detected from him disappeared, along with any notion that Clay was, indeed, a normal human. A systematically alarming prospect.

Tiny feet of a dormouse crept up her spine in the most peculiar fashion. It was discomfort at first, then panic as she realized that it was fear that was so glossily sliding up her spine and not the physical tread of a mouse. The rodent would have been more welcome.

Naru had once told her, in a bizarre, rare moment of loquaciousness, that sometimes when emotions were heightened that some of the five normal senses assimilated the form of one of the other five senses, such as being able to hear the color of something, or taste something and know the smell. An odd evolution of the brain that sometimes occurred, caused by an injury that resulted in the loss of one sense, normally eyesight and hearing, but more rarely touch and olfactory and rarer still, the entire loss of taste. It occurred in some unexpectedly, but had been more often studied in injured people… or in pregnant women…

At that, Naru, perverse creature that he was, had looked at her a little oddly. The beautifully slanted, dark blue eye narrowed in speculation, sweeping over her form in a thoroughly scientific manner, probably determining the ratio of her hip to pubis and running the odds of her bearing children with little to no success, tiny as she was. The tips of her own ears burned red at his obvious interest (however clinical), the corner of his mouth twitched at her ensuing discomfort…almost as if should something of the kind should happen to Mai—well, then Naru would be most benevolent and offer to study it for her.

She'd promptly kicked him in the shin—which had hurt her more than him due to her slippered feet as she was not wearing the sturdy mold of her normal boots—and had stalked off from the room, where the subject had never been mentioned again.

When Naru had deigned it necessary to use his power, Mai had sworn she had heard the buzzing around Naru—but so had everyone else in the cave, confirming her observations. The part that had confused her was that she also _seen_ the manifestation of the buzzing, a slight waver in the air that had _nothing_ to do with light-waves, refraction or any other physical effect on the world. She was literally seeing what she was hearing.

The reason she was so affirmed in this belief was simply that the cave had been too dark to see the things she had seen. There hadn't been enough light for her eyes to efficiently work, but oddly enough that didn't stop Mai from seeing the wrinkles and lock and stride of the buzzing around Naru. At first, she thought the sight of the buzzing was distorting his appearance zipping around his form like bees around the hive, but then her vision—_or hearing, whatever_, she griped to herself—wrapped him in a wholeness, a delicate eggshell of oneness, securing him in all that he was, the man, his spirit, his ki—his power fully allowed free to become an extension of himself, a full being.

If it hadn't been so frightening, Mai would have thought it heartbreaking—knowing at once, that Naru was, and always would be, only a fragment of himself.

Even thinking of it now, Mai had to swallow hard past the thickening in her throat. Damn Naru and his recklessness.

In the way that boggled her senses, Clay was much the same as Naru, but whereas, she had seen the buzzing around Naru, Mai felt like she could smell the scent of Clay's own power, a whiff of ozone. A scent that made her think of a brilliant trill of colors, a discordant yellow, then a soft green. Mai was smelling colors. Mai's shoulders sunk heavily. _Continental Stability had finally caused her to lose her mind…_

Which brought her back to the realm of the dead, the territory Mai straddled so delicately, fearing that the smallest gust of wind could tear her from the world of the living…forever. Clay was that tender wind now, Mai knew. She hoped he wouldn't push…knew in an instant he could separate her soul from her body and she would be Mai no more.

Mai often knew that her face often reflected exactly what she felt.

And from the look evident on Clay's face, he was just as thoroughly displeased to see her as she was to see him from the annoyed expression marring his lips and brows.

Fogged, blue lights, circular in shape, floated up from the floor appearing as though by osmosis. The liquid forms of the spirits bulged, the crown of their disk-shaped heads pushed through the barrier from the dark mass at her feet that Mai thought served as the 'floor.'

Will-o-wisps.

Normally friendly and benign purveyors of the spirit realm.

Until one flew directly into her face and severed the connection with the real world completely, frying everything that was left of real sensation, including her body.

She screamed.

* * *

Mai wasn't sure how they had talked her into this. Hooked up to machines as she was, she could barely lift an arm from the tangle of wires cascading down her body. Electrodes connected to wires had been been pasted hastily, though purposefully, on her chest and abdomen. Two were also connected at her temples, and were pulling at the edge of her hairline, annoying her.

The electrode patches had been applied with a cold, thick and clear gel.

"To increase conductivity in the electrical current, dear," Dr. Oehler had informed her.

Mai was hastily tucking her shirt back into the waist of her pants, the cloth had had to be removed in order to apply the electrodes, but now that it was done, Mai didn't want to be giving any of the men in the adjacent room a free peep show should they come in at an inopportune moment. Luckily, they hadn't so far.

Mai had then been marched into the glass-walled testing arena where more stainless steel tables sat erect, thoughtfully lined over the tops with a thin pad for comfort was housed and two rolling stations lined with shelves for electronics. One very obviously housed a heart monitor that was accompanied by another monitor that ran jumbles of numbers that Mai couldn't pick apart. One, the heart monitor and—_what, brain-wave collector_? she thought stupidly. She didn't have a name for it, but could easily enough see what it did.

The second rolling station displayed a second smaller machine that had been hooked to the ends of the electrodes and wires across Mai's body. The second machine was smaller and looked far more portable due to it being half the size of the aforementioned heart machine and monitor. It was dandelion yellow and had a handle built into the front (the real reason she knew it was of the portable variety). Only four buttons covered the front of the device, one being far larger than the others, stressing the button's own importance.

Mai pointed to the second machine that she didn't recognize with a wary eye. "What is that?" She said nervously.

Naru adjusted the patch at her temple to the relief of her hairline. She smiled at him at that. He barely returned an answering smile before he brushed her pointing finger down with the merest hint of reproach, and vague amusement.

"It's an AED."

"And why is it connected to here," she pointed just underneath her collar bone on the right side of her chest and then at the other one which was situated just under and to the side of her left breast, "and here? Those aren't the normal spots. _And what exactly does it do?" _She stressed in tones of accusation.

Naru shared a patient look with her, while he adjusted the other electrodes and explained, "If you go into V-Tach, or V-Fib, two types of cardiac arrhythmias, the machine will shock you, and reestablish the correct pattern of your heartbeat."

"I thought they used those…" Mai struggled for the right words, "…paddle thing-ys, you know—_Clear_!" She said, miming the conduction paddles that she had often seen on Soap Operas, or late night medical dramas.

"Those have pretty much been phased out of use," Dr. Oehler added helpfully over Naru's shoulder. "AEDs are the most prominent defibrillation device to my knowledge. Simple, easy," she pointed at the big, glowing button labeled 'Shock,' "and effective." To Mai's dismay, Dr. Oehler wiggled her fingers appreciatively, as if itching to test the machine's effectiveness…

Naru reached for her wrist and looked to be vaguely concentrated on counting her pulse. Though, he probably wouldn't get an accurate count while he was looking at her like that.

"…_if_ my heart stops? That sounds pretty definitive—_like you expect it to happen_," Mai repeated hollowly. "So you'll restart it with—"she pointed limply, "—_that_?"

Naru pulled gently on her arm and extended it fully to run a light, tentative finger over the vein at her elbow down to the hollow of her wrist. Her fingers flexed without thinking.

Naru shook his head and looked up at her, smiling with considerable satisfaction. Smirking as if he'd prodded the patellar reflex with only a mere brush of skin. Mai flushed and saw the twin red edge of heat creeping at the base of Naru's black collar, his own blush. She glanced around to see that no one was watching them at the moment: the only reason that Naru had touched her so publicly then.

Reading her face, he nodded in answer, then rapped the machine with the back of his knuckles. "No, that's not what the AED is for—if your heart stops, we'll use CPR. The machine is a defibrillator, it doesn't start the heart up if you," he measured his words carefully, then gave up, saying, "die."

Mai's lips thinned in dissatisfaction.

A long-limbed forefinger chucked her under the chin. Takigawa. The monk came around her side into view. "Aha, cheer up, Jou-chan, you'll be pleasantly happy to know that I am certified in CPR. Your life—and heart," he said, in added thought, "will be in good hands, or maybe that's lips… or lungs?"

Mai wrinkled her nose distastefully. "Ew."

Takigawa mimicked her look with his hands perched on his hips, defiant. The perfect parental posture. "Ew, she says? Well, ew it may be, but that's a life-saving _ew_ that I'll expect out of you once you're resuscitated. That and maybe a thanks, you ungrateful welp," he said sharply, and tapped her on the nose.

Mai waved her hands in a defensive gesture. "Ew, but not _ew_," she tried to clarify. "'Ew' as in it would be like kissing," she said in a whispered tone, her cheeks pinking in agreement. She mumbled on, "And not that you're not, um, agreeable, Bou-san…but that would be like kissing my older brother, and thus…_ew_," she reaffirmed with complete confidence, but had to take a hasty gulp of air at the trying nature of explaining her thoughts aloud.

Takigawa raised a dismissive eyebrow, his eyes narrowing judiciously. "Well, you'll be too dead to notice this _Ew,"_ he pointed, referring to himself, _"_giving you life. So consider your virtue safe." He gave Naru a taciturn, sidelong glance at that, carefully displaying his displeasure at just how safe he considered her virtue was _not_ with the younger man. Takigawa's long, oval eyes fixed on hers again and he wiggled a reproaching finger in her face, and said benignly, though with a hint of malice, "and then when you're returned to the land of the living, perhaps we'll discuss this misguided notion you have of _older."_

He swung around, conversation clearly done, and stood himself towards the edge of the room, arms crossed and one leg bent up as his toe caught the wall in a tenuous hold.

From her left, she heard Corwin's grating tone, hail her in an annoyingly astute remark, "The old man will also be groping you—though likely he'll explain that away as the necessary _chest compressions."_

Takigawa merely grunted in response. "I'm sure she'll be more than forgiving for me copping a feel on her meager chest after I snap the first rib," he growled, tightlipped.

"Hey, now," Mai began, in a soothing effort, but then she quickly realized what Takigawa had said, and she fixed a venomous look on him. "_What do you mean, meager?" _She snapped.

Naru snorted, a display of amusement that didn't ingratiate himself to Mai.

Takigawa waved her off, dismissing the comment, but the look of malevolence hadn't left him as he stared after Corwin across the room.

The monk looked almost dangerous, an ever-vigilant eye trailing the unfamiliar people of London's S.P.R. tracing paths around the room with mistrust evident in his face.

Mistrust that he _wanted _them to see, and take notice of. Madoka must have said something to him pertaining to the faculty of the parent S.P.R.—something rather unbecoming from the scowl on Takigawa's face. Lin and Naru never would have said a word to color his judgment—except for, in small, obscure comments that no one, but each other would have understood, and therefore, useless to everyone else.

Mackenzie, Dr. Oehler, patted Mai's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure by meager, he meant more than satisfactory." The good doctor was fortunate enough to be out of her striking distance.

Catching the look on Mai's face, the corner of Naru's lip quirked up further, apparently, considerably amused.

By the window, Corwin maintained an ambivalence that was too carefully constructed. He wasn't quite stiff, but he stood erect, more rigid than before, and his words were tentative, heavily thought out since Takigawa had arrived. Apparently, Corwin had taken note of Takigawa's thinly-veiled hostility, and had diverted tactfully for the moment.

Takigawa hadn't said one friendly word to the strangers of London's S.P.R. since he'd arrived. Likely his words had been monosyllabic: _Let me in. Move out of my way, and Where's Mai?_

His dislike was obvious, and inspired Mai to many questions. His unwillingness to speak to them was made more poignant because Takigawa _could_, in fact_, speak English. _Mottled, bubbly and rounded English that sounded like it was more a swelling of the tongue than a roll off the lips, but nonetheless _English._

Something about it wasn't quite right, but nothing had been since this disastrous journey began.

A hand slid to her left side under the guise of checking the lower left AED electrode. Mai perked up at attention as Naru's hand briefly cradled her side, and squeezed her ribcage in assurance. Just as quickly, it dropped with a tentative brush down her side, causing her stomach muscles to flutter and contract pleasantly.

Naru leaned over her, and spoke in the shell of her ear, a pleasant baritone and warm breath.

"Don't worry. I'm not certified for resuscitation, but I'm sure I can manage the basics well enough." Then he went over to Dr. Brandt, hands gesturing vaguely to completing the pre-testing checks.

She couldn't help the twitch of lips: half from laughter, half from disbelief.

* * *

"…**not self-hypnosis, but more, ah, self-induced memory recall via subconscious stimulation**,"Dr. Brandt offered. At Mai's blank look, Dr. Brandt merely waved a hand and glanced at Naru. "**Just tell her that it's not dangerous. She doesn't need to understand the details.**" '_She's too stupid to understand the details_' was clearly what he was saying.

Naru merely stared bemusedly back, a small arch of eyebrow that Mai felt only she would notice. To others it would only look like the inkling of patience and understanding, but Mai could spot his condescension a mile away even when not aimed at her direction. _Clearly_, Dr. Brandt was too stupid to understand _that_.

Self-induced memory recall via subconscious stimulation. The entire reason for the testing. They wanted Mai to fall asleep in order to remember the events surrounding Clay when he'd collapsed. What had happened when she had 'gone under,' their new pet term for Mai's psychic visions.

To her misfortune, and their ire she couldn't remember one detail of the occurrence after that will-o-wisp—curse the little fiend—had struck her in the face.

Afterward, she'd slowly come to with a minor headache, and a griping wrist that she must have landed on incorrectly when she fell, and had met with the glorious and heart-thrilling sight of Takigawa, her lovely Bou-san. They'd explained in sparse details what had happened.

Mai met Clay. Clay collapsed. Corwin tried to help. Mai collapsed.

Then they played the waiting game, sitting idly by until Mai would come around again (and inevitably, she always did; otherwise, she wouldn't be here now) while they pondered the possible problems.

Upon Corwin's revelations; namely, the brown fluid he had determined was from the kidneys. Renal failure.

"_An overdose," Dr. Oehler said, the lines of her mouth were taut with some emotion. Anger? Fear? _

_Lin quietly interjected. "Shouldn't he be removed to a more appropriate venue—a hospital, perhaps?" The question had taken the form of a suggestion, but the tone of his voice was unmistakable in reproach._

_Mackenzie Oehler pursed her lips in quiet deliberation. Turning on her heel, she breezed down the hall with quick strides, following the two men who had taken Clay away, white coat flying in her wake. Over her shoulder, they heard, "This isn't the first time. We're equipped to handle him."_

Which meant they weren't prepared for the hospital to handle him. They hadn't wanted to let Clay leave the premises…but why?

She made a small 'hmmph' when Naru looked to her again in an assessing manner. The arch of his patronizing eyebrow was diminished but not gone, and the finite line between his brows dented in unknown caveat. "It's not particularly dangerous," he said in clear, unfaltering Japanese. Not _particularly_ dangerous. Which meant there was some risk, and one he clearly wanted her to take warrant of.

But this choice he wouldn't make for her. She would have to make the choice on her own.

Once he had given Dr. Brandt command of the testing, he would not go back on his word and step in obtrusively. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't let Mai have the final word. He wanted her to understand that with no little significance.

Mai carefully studied Naru's mask of indifference, and spoke hesitantly, quiet as if her words themselves were heavy with the weight of their meaning. "There wouldn't be a need for the things attached to my chest…unless there was a risk of my heart going…willy-nilly," she said, smiling slightly at the English phrasing. She poked at the electrodes placed particularly across her chest, the ones that would recalibrate her very heartbeat.

The corner of Naru's lip twitched in a half-quirk. "This particular test is dangerous _physically_ as it takes the form of electro-shock. It's nothing near high-voltage, only a current here, there. Stimulation, as he said, but…" he waved a hand nonchalantly, a contrast to the tight set in his shoulders she was just taking notice of, "the wrong current," he said meaningfully, and she felt the weight of his meaning through the narrowing of his gaze into little triangles, "can disrupt the heart. The human body can have a very…precarious hold on life."

Dr. Brandt stood still, the picture of a statue behind Naru. He had a few words of Japanese in his vernacular, but not nearly enough to understand the entire context of their conversation. As such, he didn't understand the implicit warning underlying Naru's carefully chosen words.

While Naru might not have the same reservations in stymieing the tests, Corwin obviously did not.

From the stool to her right, Mai caught the familiar curl and roll of her native language from Corwin that for once made it obvious that Japanese was not his first language. He shook his head at her. A gray lock of hair fell across his forehead. "This is stupid. There are other tests, Mai. Ones that aren't going to _torture_ you into remembering. What's so important about it anyway? There are no obvious benefits to this, save this old man's ego at proving Oliver wrong." Mai saw the edge in his words and meaning began to peek out from behind the clouds the scientists had been weaving gently and with great care overhead to obscure her vision of the truth.

The undercurrent of agitation and apprehension that had filled the room for the past hour was becoming more evident and the reason for it more obvious.

Dr. Brandt had chosen this particular test, not because it was the best option, but because it was a _mediocre option_ that had mildly dangerous repercussions. Dr. Brandt wasn't testing Mai in the physical sense, he was testing Naru in the matter of wills.

Would Naru see the futility in the experiment and the danger to Mai? Would he step in and go against his word that he would give Dr. Brandt leave to try his own measures? Dr. Brandt's immediate indifference at her own welfare made her hands cold and her heartbeat numb.

She glanced from Naru: once again the perfect mask of apathy, an unintelligible meaning to Corwin's own expression: displeasure written clear across his features, worried for her, and frank vehemence at Dr. Brandt for his pissing games.

Smiling slightly, Mai didn't reach for Naru's hand, though she wanted desperately to grasp it, reassure him that she could make the right choice. She turned to Dr. Brandt then, and reached her hand up, and carefully peeled the electrode at her temple off with the sound of pulling off a bandage from a fresh wound. First one and then the other.

Mai knew a corner when she was pushed into one, and when she was forced to seek the only possible exit. She was a mouse chasing the fragrant scent of cheese in the endless maze, knowing which way to go, but not _why she could never find it,_ trailing blindly where the scientist wanted to the experiment to go.

But Mai smiled at Dr. Brandt in return. Trapped, she may be, but blind she was not. She'd go into his maze, willingly, knowingly and from the look on his face, he had acknowledged it as well. A hint of a smile grew on his own lips. She'd surprised him, but he was still getting his way. He knew it.

She clasped her hands and rubbed them together to get free of the clear gel that stuck stubbornly on her skin from removing the electrodes.

"Prep the Tank, if you don't mind, Dr. Brandt."

* * *

It was an uproar. A chaos of yelling voices, unrestrained tempers and belligerent tones that held no inkling of self-possession.

It wasn't quite the reaction she had been hoping for, but she had at least hoped for something more than…

Incensed. "…_of all the stupid plans_…"

Takigawa.

Insulting. "—dull-witted, of course, she would—"

Madoka.

Patronizing. "Unprepossessing to say the least—Neanderthals gave their brain more exercise—".

Naru.

"I'm surprised I'm the only one who saw this coming."

And Lin.

At which, the verbal assault began anew with fervor at _how they did see this coming, but how the new lows she sank to never failed to surprise them._

Mai slipped the edge of the spandex suit over her shoulder with a taut snap that quieted all conversation. She slipped on the cotton terry robe with a vague sigh. The ends draped mid-calf, obviously designed for someone half a foot taller. She hefted the cuffs around her wrists higher, only to have them fall back down again before she decided that rolling them would be more sufficient.

She popped around the side of the modesty screen and gestured at Takigawa to roll her right arm for her. The busy work of catering to her needs shut him up abruptly and gave him something else to focus on. She languished in the silence for a moment. That was much better.

Takigawa, only moments ago had been ranting and raving like a loon about the idiocies of the British Empire and its subsequent spawn, from Kings and Queens (_inbreds_, he bellowed) to tennis athletes (self-important bigamists—_how, _Mai inquired) and finally connecting it all back to London's S.P.R. (_tyrannical_, _washed-out, useless, good-for-nothings_, and several other unflattering adjectives that Mai had tried to make sense of before Madoka had clapped her hands over Mai's ears). It was six degrees of unexpected (and hilarious) separation.

But currently, Takigawa's mouth was pursed in determination, focused on the small efforts to roll her sleeves to a satisfactory height for the most efficient use. _He was such the older brother more than he ever knew, or would admit._

She thanked Takigawa with a hand on his arm and carefully avoided the brooding couple in the corner, Lin and Naru, who were quietly and silently conferring, possibly mulling over how to prevent the next time she would throw herself over the pyre, or possibly doing it themselves to put everyone out of their misery. She made her way over to Madoka whose own brow was pinched in thought. The look carefully shifted to one of nonchalance and undiluted pique, Madoka's own unyielding mask to her emotions. Under her giddy and eager look, no one could tell what she was thinking. It wasn't the first time Mai felt unnerved by the happy façade.

Mai heard the momentary pause of deep tones from the corner where she knew Lin and Naru were eying her. Probably with a patent look of disappointment or cautionary glances.

"Madoka," Mai said delicately, pressing the woman for honesty, "tell me how bad this could get." _How bad this is about to get,_ Mai thought was better left unsaid.

Madoka tipped her head side to side, outwardly assessing. Her look of amusement vanished under solemn thought. "Well," she began, low-voiced in contemplation, "We know the risks of electro-shock. It's dangerous because of the way it's conducted. It's relatively safe at low voltages, of course." Mai didn't know if she trusted that. "It can accidentally disrupt the heart," Madoka said, back-tracking to the previous experiment with an unnerving air of nonchalance. "We know the risks. Burns, low-degree of course, Ventricular Tachycardia, the pulseless kind, and Ventricular Fibrillation, that's V-Tach and V-Fib, as I'm sure you've heard," she said easily relaying the names Naru had so casually listed off before. "The possibility of asystole—that's flat-lining," she explained in an offhand tone. She waved a hand as if brushing the gravity of the numerous concerns away and fixed Mai with a very private and penitent look. Madoka was obviously worried, but along with the resolve mounting in her speech, her ire at Mai's obvious distrust in the scientists was also rising. It was as much an insult to Dr. Brandt as it was to Naru, Lin and Madoka herself. Mai hadn't considered that until then.

_And would you trust a man who would purposely hurt you just to test someone else's—Naru's—word?_ Mai thought. It smacked all too much of sadist intents.

Madoka picked up on Mai's own caustic and distrusting face. Tactfully, as if assessing Mai's own argument, she didn't comment on it though. "At the least with these physical ailments caused by E-S, we know exactly what we're provoking," and hastily added, "and then treating for." She pressed a hand to her brow, rubbing thoughtfully as if to ease the tension she hadn't known she'd been feeling.

"But in the Tank," she said wearily, "the results have never proved consistent. We'll have no known results to plan for—only reaction for treatment to whatever happens, plain and simple. On one hand, you could simply remember what happened _in the hallway_,_" _she stumbled over the frivolous words. The hallway with Clay was merely the spirit realm—something Madoka would never experience for herself and thus, struggled to define.

"You could just as easily recall the memory of Clay and the hallway and have the same chance at recalling any other pertinent memory you've ever experienced over your lifetime. This isn't an exact method, but we're hoping with the right prompts we'll be able to lend a guiding hand to the right memory." No one was forthcoming about what _said prompts _would be though. "You may be able to tell us what happened. On the other hand, we could trigger your unstable powers—and from there the possibilities are endless." Madoka's tone slipped into one of exasperation as she clenched her fingers at the single irking thought of the possibilities not surrendering themselves to her will—followed by the possibilities eagerly narrowing themselves down and declaring the sole remaining possibly the title of Outcome.

Naru's mentor would expect no less, Mai thought. "You could display any number of dormant psychic traits, ones that might have stayed dormant your entire life without this kind of provocation. Maybe you're a pyrokinetic—hmm? Then you could burn down the lab and bring the building down around our ears. Or you could be fully-aware telepath—an indescribably awful occupation, you could read everyone's thoughts, all at once, all the time—don't you smile at me, Taniyama Mai, this is not amusing in the slightest," Madoka said with no little asperity.

Mai tried to dim her smile, but from Madoka's souring look, her effort hadn't amounted to much. "You could very well become a null, all powers lost, your biological wiring criss-crossed backwards until you didn't know your astral walking from your post-cognitive visions." Mai's lips twitched as she tried not to laugh at Madoka—speaking as if the world would end, " You could become so dependent on Naru's ki that you very well may suck him dry."

Mai paused mid-laugh. "I—what?"

Madoka, sensing that she'd found the one string to unravel the entire sweater, pulled unforgivingly. "And then he could die. Followed very soon after by you, who could, bit by aching bit, have her ki reserves sucked excruciatingly slowly and painfully dry until you were a withered husk of a psychic. One who couldn't create her own ki nor draw it from nature."

Mouth dry, Mai gaped. "Really?" Mai glanced at Naru, thoroughly worried, and paused to look for Takigawa. Surely, he would create some sort of disruption that could aid her in getting out of this. She'd used her trump card of visions a.k.a. _fainting_ too much already.

Madoka glowered fiercely at her and let the silence grate at Mai until she couldn't take it any longer. "It would serve you right if I let you think so. What with how you've taken everything so lightly about this testing—from all I've heard," she added peripherally. "You've quite the nerve to think we know everything about what goes on. The Tank. _Is. Risky. _I think Naru has shared this thought with you before, but I'm in some doubt as to how far the notion has sunken into that cranium of yours." Madoka's tone softened abruptly in cadence. "We simply _don't know_ the risks. It worries us_. _It's unacceptable._ We can't plan for what we don't know._ And I think, that more than anything else, frightens us."

_Frightens us. _Madoka was very subtlely hinting—okay, not so subtlely, she was pointing at Naru now—that they were all worried about what could happen.

Madoka rubbed a knuckle along her lip, unconscious of the movement. "We are operating under the assumption that you have multiple, and reactive psychic powers that have triggers. Every single ghost hunt you went on in Japan triggered the emersion of further psychic powers. That is what the Tank is designed to do. Quite simply, it's a switch—a trigger—one we're very worried is loaded behind the barrel."

Madoka reached for Mai's hands and squeezed her hands as if she could force her own agonizing to finally fully register within Mai's mind. With a small 'click,' it did. Mai felt her throat tightening.

Madoka's voice wavered, but she coughed, clearing it sounding once more assured. Her tone did nothing for Mai's own unraveling nerves, frazzled as they were. Hadn't she been sure of this only minutes before? Even when Corwin had nearly exploded when he'd heard her say "Prepare the tank" with crystal clear certainty. Did no one trust her to do what was best?

Corwin, yelling, and gesturing violently at Dr. Brandt, had been bodily dragged out of the room by the patient, though straining arm of Leonie (who had quietly watched the proceedings of the experiment from the corner of the room), and the steady cluck of tongue by Dr. Oehler, who had taken up Corwin's other arm, delicately though firmly ushering him from the room.

And still, she hadn't been worried. Until now. Corwin's angry gesticulating meant nothing to the very real and familiar knowledge of one Mori Madoka. Her immediacy to Mai's previous life was what touched her, affected her, and made her opinions and worries very real to Mai. Corwin was a stranger—a friendly one, but not someone she trusted implicitly. Madoka, on the other hand, was, and the very real fear that Naru's mentor was expressing was at once very clear and consuming.

The fear was reflected in Madoka's eyes. "Dr. Brandt and company are operating under the assumption that you have no such powers as we've had no viable proof of any since you've been here, save the two occasions where you've joined others in visions—and those are tentative at best because it could very well have been their own psychic's—Lennie and Clay's—powers on display and not your own. Do you see what we're facing here?"

With a shaky nod, and white-knuckled fingers, Mai whispered past the lump in her throat, "Yes."

There was a knock at the door. Mai felt Madoka's fingers leave her in a cold rush, and then the older woman, along with Takigawa were greeting Dr. Oehler at the door with no apparent alacrity. Not greeting, Mai thought absently. They had cut the doctor off at the door like two clucking hens protective of their offspring, as if they would stop the experiment right there by not letting her into the room. The sighed momentarily warmed Mai.

But Dr. Oehler needn't bother entering the room.

Looking put-together as usual, and just as harmless, the Doctor lifted a well-manicured hand to Mai in invitation with the most repentant and sweet smile on her face as Mai had ever seen. The smile clenched Mai's stomach violently, heaving the world upside down. Small, dancing black spots tickled the corner of her eyesight, and Mai quickly darted back behind the modesty screen with clumsy feet before anyone could stop her.

* * *

"I said I'm fine. Stop fussing, or I'll drag you in here with me and drown you," Mai called with asperity. Her temple pulsed with anger. An increase in blood pressure. She was sure that somewhere out of sight, Dr. Brandt was taking a note of that on a little brown clipboard.

More noise from the outside rang dully against the edge of the Tank. Someone was arguing with her, but as they hadn't turned the speakers on, she couldn't hear them.

"Bou-san!" she growled in a half-restrained shriek.

Her voice echoed back at her within the confines of the Tank, and the water swished as she wasted a violent gesture that no one could see. A gesture that even she couldn't see as the Tank was gunpowder dark, designed for sensory deprivation of numerous kinds. No light got in, nor sound except for the faintest rumble of vibration, a comforting sensation, but even the Tank couldn't completely quell Takigawa's booming yell.

"_I'm fine_!" She reiterated to no one's belief.

An expectant cough came through the speakers: "**Please, relax now, Taniyama.**"

Dr. Oehler.

In the background of the crackling speakers, Mai heard Takigawa again, raving (this time in English) about how someone who was ill should not be undergoing _any_ kind of testing, let alone one such as this. _What if she choked on her vomit and had drowned before they could get to her? _

Mai scoffed, offended at the thought that she couldn't purge her own system without keeling over to it.

She rapped her hand against the polymer side of the Tank viciously, imagining it to be Takigawa's lovely dishwater blond head. "Bou-san, if you don't shut up, I'll have you deported," Mai said, licking her lips. Water rested at chin-level and the resulting lick was salty and made her face twist up in a pucker.

The speaker abruptly cut off and she couldn't hear the voices anymore. Someone obviously thought that if she couldn't hear the arguments, then she would have no one to argue _with. Observant, _she noted callously.

In what was affectionately referred to as the Tank, Mai sat safely ensconced in the giant, plastic-looking pod. She felt more like they were about to send her into space to inhabit another planet rather the reality of being all too stationary and trying to trigger a trance of some sort.

When she'd first glimpsed the capsule, she'd been unimpressed. It was a pale gray, oblong in shape with heavy fetters at the end to provide stabilization and appeared to be nothing more than a covered bathtub. Had Mai any inkling of claustrophobia, the idea of getting inside the Tank would have been a debilitating one. Thankfully, as she did not share the phobia, getting in had been easy enough.

On the other hand, being covered by the lid in total darkness took a momentous act of faith, and she hastily began reassessing her fear of _dark _places, if not _small _ones. Mai felt the shuddering breath leave her as she sank lower into the water and released her vise-like grip from the edges of the tub that she had refused to unclasp since she'd entered the Tank. When she closed her eyes, it got easier to breathe. It was easier to cope with the endless darkness that had her neatly tucked within the overgrown egg.

And while her eyes didn't mind so much not being able to see, her mind took issue with it. Mai snapped her eyes shut again, and briefly felt for the side of the egg—capsule. Tank. Whatever.

Silence followed, only to be briefly broken by water swishing about as she tried to situate herself horizontally. She leaned back and let the feeling of weightlessness take her, buoyed by the salt.

The water in the Tank was lukewarm, warm enough to manage her body temperature and enough to avoid chilling her. The Tank contained a high saline content, so her body was buoyant and floating among the stilling water. Mai had heard of seas around the world that people could float with virtually no effort expanded due to the difference in concentrations of salt in the hydrogen-oxygen compound, but had never experienced it for herself. She felt a little perk of pleasure at the thought that she was doing something that her friends had probably never had the chance to do before. Relaxing, and sinking further, her ears went under and she heard nothing except the beating thrum of her heart, a warm sound and Mai frowned at the thought. How could a sound be warm? But things had been described as such long before she was born, such as in music and instruments, therefore, who was she to argue? It _did_ sound warm and that was all that mattered.

Swathed in complete darkness, she tried to focus on the healthy hum of blood circulating through her, and not the tension in her stomach as it eased inch by inch. She didn't have the urge to retch anymore, but that didn't matter. She was still embarrassed and slightly peeved.

If the capsule did nothing for psychic research, it at least provided a nice place to think.

_Not that she had anything else to do._

Madoka had done exactly what she had planned: she had made Mai fearful. And she had accomplished it with zeal. To such a successful extent that Mai, panicked with terror had been violently sick behind the modesty screen.

After that, it had been no holds barred. Takigawa had raged (and until a moment ago, had _still been_ raging), Naru had an oddly twisted look of disgust on his face—probably at the thought of her vomiting where people could hear her, and Madoka had looked unrepentant with a gleam of something in her eyes that had soured Mai's stomach again with echoing clench.

Lin, the ever quiet one, however had been the decisive hand of judgment. Seeing Mai looking so pitiful, he had simply offered her one arm to lean on and had escorted her past the livid Takigawa, the mildly mystified Dr. Oehler, and coy Madoka. Lin had shared a very frank look with her, a silent 'we'll talk later,' and Mai felt an answering pang of anger.

Now, Mai was in the Tank, and with nothing else to be said or done, she simply waited and floated.

_She was beginning to get a headache above the bridge of her nose._

This water didn't smell like Japan's beaches did. This was something not cleaner, but more chemically-infused, a sharp scent that cleared her nostrils with short, burning sensation. Japan's beaches and perhaps other beaches that she had not been to, had a certain_ Pesce_ scent to them. She laughed at her insensible thoughts, _she was supposed to be focusing._

She had been floating for some time before she realized that the scent of chemicals and laboratories had left her. Without opening her eyes, she knew where she was, but _why_ was she here? If she was asleep, why was she on the astral plane?

Was she on a case? Where had they gone for the hunt? She couldn't remember.

Wait. London. She was definitely in London. With that awful Brandt, alone across the planet without her team. Only hmm—hadn't Bou-san just arrived? It was quite possible she was testing for Dr. Brandt, in fact, she was—wasn't she?

Her thoughts puzzled her… but it felt familiar. It felt just like when she had been a child, back when both her parents had been alive. For an entire week she had been determined to fly in her dreams. Wouldn't that be amazing? As an astute and stubborn five-year-old, she had thought of nothing else right before falling asleep, had hung little airplanes above her small bed and even with her best efforts, it hadn't happened once. Was that what was going on right now?

Had she forgotten what she wanted to do? Was she trying to fly again?

It was all nonsense. All the same to her anyhow, but the pressure in her head refused to ease. What was it? A soft blue light…Naru's power? Maybe his ki….no.

The will-o-wisp! That damn little insect had knocked her out, had hit her directly between the eyes—now there was something to fixate on.

And Clay, curse his blond little head had the gall to _laugh_ at her…

Mai sat bolt upright and once again was in the Tank. Alive. Awake. Not for the glory of the dead.

She sank heavily in the Tank as her legs flew up and her torso curled inward in pain, jackknifing her body and disturbing the carefully won buoyancy. Water closed over her head and she inhaled, irrational, panicked, trying to gulp air, to breathe again. She thrashed ferociously and propelled herself upward with a thrust to the surface, a struggle for what distance was only half a foot. Water slid over her face as she emerged, gasping and choking on the salt water she had accidentally swallowed. Shaking, she clumsily pinched her lips between her fingers, missing at first before a hearty clamp succeeded, and exhaled harshly from her nose, trying to expel the excess water still trapped there.

Lord, that hurt. She winced, eyes watering and warm against her cheeks.

Voices and a rumbling, disembodied grown from the Tank rang out as someone opened the top with a heavy lurch from her water sarcophagus. Light slid in from all sides blindingly. Mai hastily threw one hand over her eyes to protect them from sudden onslaught of overpowering light. She groped blindly for the edge of the Tank and threw herself against it once she found it. Scrambling footsteps and shaky breath. A hand found her forearm, gripping tight enough to bruise, enough for her to mumble a half-hearted 'ow' between gasps.

Soft hands, she noted. Large, not female. Not the callused, well-used fingers of someone in a band. Not Takigawa. And Lin smelled like ammonia at last notice, odd, and yet not something she would miss. Naru, then. He whispered something urgently to her, but for the life of her couldn't hear it. But the words didn't matter, his voice and presence were enough. She rested her chin on her forearm as she hunched on the edge of the Tank, hollow-bellied and shaking, but calming down.

Eyes still closed, she breathed deeply through her nose, and spoke softly. "I'm fine. Panicked for half a second, but I'm fine now." She wondered how many times she would have to say that phrase "I'm fine" until someone believed her._ How many times would she have to say it until it was finally true?_

The fingers on her forearm tightened. Either having read her thoughts, which wouldn't surprise her, or having read her face which was all too easy for him.

"I'm fine," she repeated, and laughed, still unwilling to open her eyes. "It _would_ happen to me. Can't leave me alone for a minute, huh?" She tried to make light, but heard no answering laugh, not even the courtesy kind.

"Mai, talk to me," a throaty kind of cadence that she had no sensibility to enjoy at the moment.

"I am," she said, distinctly annoyed. She heaved another deep sigh and relaxed against the edge of the Tank, fingers sliding slowly across his forearm to his bicep to the hollow of his shoulder. He tensed at the wandering, wet hand as water dripped from the edge of her fingertips down the back of his shirt in its steady ascent. She traced upward, finding the crook of his neck and the crown of his head. She slowly opened her eyes and flung the limp arm around his neck to keep him firmly held down to her, but for a moment Naru felt as though she were actually holding herself up.

Mai half-expected him to ask the obligatory stupid question: Are you okay?

But Naru wasn't stupid, and he didn't ask. Instead, he said calmly, "Only you would have the nerve to drown yourself in three-foot glorified bathtub."

Mai gave a chuckle with great effort.

She found comfort at the edge of his hairline at the base of his head where the hair was short. She ran her hand through it, sighing pleasantly at the sensation. As comforted by the motion as if she had been receiving the attention on the nape of her own neck.

"Anything?" He prompted.

_Did you remember?_

"No," she said weakly and hefted her head off her forearm to look him in the eye. She gave a wan smile. "If you give me a minute, though, I'll give this another go."

She thought she heard a questioning thought in her direction, but wasn't sure if it was said aloud or one that had been sent over that nauseatingly ever-present cord between her and guardian ghost. At the moment, it didn't matter.

"I'm fine," she said once again, and Naru at once, realized with a tinge of dissatisfaction, that she hadn't been repeating the dimwitted phase for the reassurance of everyone else. All along, she had been reassuring herself.

* * *

Next: Chapter 10: 10:34:06

The Point of Impact….

But you know, for real this time because Mai just had to rear her pretty little head and take over Naru's stage time.


	11. 10:34:06 The Point of Impact

**History of War**

_Chapter 10: 10:34:06_

_The Point of Impact…_

* * *

8/25/11 (Edited: 4/12/12)

* * *

AN: This is extremely unedited, so catch the flaws if you like. :) I'll be performing my own maintenance of the chapter by sometime next week. And if you're all curious, and at all, still interested to know: I have most of the REST of the story outlined, and even more shockingly, most of the next chapter written out. Huzzah.

AN 4/12/12: Ugh, that was so terribly edited. The constant tense switch annoyed me. Look forward to the newest chapter in the coming weeks. I'll be editing it, hopefully, a bit more thoroughly than the last one. This should be slightly more cohesive than the previous edition of this chapter.

* * *

Floating in a salty vat of water like pork brining wasn't the most enchanting notion Mai would come away from London with.

It was, however strangely, oddly calming. It also allowed Mai the most composure since she'd become a veritable playground for scientists. This was her third session in the Tank today, and it had yet to induce any of the desired results for the second day in a row.

And while Dr. Oehler was becoming increasingly irritated, Mai almost felt more whole and healthy since the first time she'd stepped foot on British land. And each successive trip to the Tank exponentially increased the feeling of wonder, the completeness—with the exception of the one hole Continental Instability left her without—her own ki.

But for once, Mai didn't feel like she was grasping for straws. The sense of well-being the Tank induced solidified her whole self, and at the same time, solidified the gaping maw of her power. With a little concentration, she could picture her hands running over the slowly healing wound in her spirit.

The edges were sealing, slowly sewing themselves back together and the slow burn she felt emanating from it was a comforting warmth, not frightening in the least. She rubbed the edges with her hand and could tell from the shape and feel where each piece of her power fit within the puzzle.

Astral Projection.

She struggled to picture the first emerging power to come to the front of her mind. It fluttered into existence with a tiny wingspan. A bird…yellow, a small canary. The bird who can carry a tune, or a message, much like the key that Mai had once given Masako.

Masako, who had been in dire need, of a reassuring word, and a flicker of hope.

Corporeal Transference. A cold, calculating power. The ability to take over another's mind with her own, or as she more commonly did, she inhabited their body. Neither was a settling thought. It was a callous, uncaring power. Like when Mai had briefly inhabited Lennie's memory with Clay on the couch.

And always in the background, landlocked around the rest of her missing powers was her intuition.

That treasured (though vilified) power that was ever-present, but diminished and flickering wanly like a far-away candle.

Her awareness crept back like the slow crawl of night drawing in. The cradle of power, her ki-base slid from her fingertips. She reached for her ki, wanting to give it one last reassuring touch, but she was pulled through the darkness.

Her reentry was much the same as the first. Her astral mind landed back in her body without much grace, and she sunk under the salt-buoyant water with a startled gurgle. Light spilled into the tank, and Mai surfaced, sputtering what must have been enchantingly.

She blew out, trying to dislodge any more water lodged in her airway. It didn't help as she coughed again, and another charming hack followed.

A towel filled her vision.

"Quite done?"

Mai pressed the towel to her face to get the saline water out of her eyes. It stung.

"I guess I am now that _you're here._"

Naru offered her a hand, but she brushed it off. His eyebrow lifted minutely, affronted.

"I'm all wet. I don't want you to ruin your shirt."

He took it with aplomb and held up the oversized robe for her. She donned it carefully and when she was wrapped securely with it belted at her hips, Naru had a hand at her back and was urging her along. In her haste, she had trouble slipping her sandals on her feet.

"I have a phone call in my office for you."

"So you do have an office here…that's where you've been disappearing when I'm testing. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want you bothering me when I was working, or have you rifling through my desk at any given moment." The answer though honestly given was still prickly.

"What could I possibly want from your desk?" Mai said, and ducked under Naru's arm as he held open the door.

"That is the question," he replied.

In front of him, Mai patted her cheeks firmly as the blush threatened to creep upward.

Because it sounded exactly like something she would do.

* * *

Finally seeing the reclusive Naru's London office was a thrill in itself. It wasn't particularly large, probably due to him not being there often, if ever. The desk was only a few shades darker than oak; nothing particularly beautiful like Cherry Wood, or Mohagany, which she completely expected of him. There was a desk calendar that was five years too old, a pencil sharpener, and a telephone resting on top of the desk; and to the right three file cabinets were set against the wall.

But the oddity in itself was how clearly aged everything was. For not being there so long, every piece of technology was aged, and it was starkly obvious in the telephone.

"What is that?" She said pointing to the black box with a flashing red light.

Naru looked at her, annoyance bending his brow. "It's a phone."

"No, there are black wires hanging out of it, there's no screen on it and there's a red light. Clearly, it's a bomb. We should evacuate," she said soberly.

Naru did his best, but eventually he rolled his eyes, sighing.

"Just sit," he said, exasperated.

"What if it's motion sensitive?" Mai held a mock-frozen pose.

Naru regarded her. "Then we'll _both_ be put out of our misery."

He picked up the phone (if it could be called one), and cradled it against his ear. "Speaking." Mai settled in the chair across the desk from him.

Noise clicked along the other side of the line. Naru nodded, a habit that no one could break even though the other person on the line can't see the motions, then said, 'yes, here she is.'

He held the phone out to her.

"Who is it?" Mai's brow furrowed in puzzlement.

Naru merely held the phone out, impassive.

She heard an impatient voice barely audible from the phone's earpiece. Mai mouthed, 'Ayako?'

Naru steepled his fingers and leaned against his desk, waiting.

Frowning, Mai picked up the phone, preparing to be yelled at, but bolstered herself with a tentative, "hello?"

"You kept me waiting long enough." The honeyed tongue of Japan's favored Medium.

Masako.

And about second to the last on the list of her favorite people was Mai. Probably why she sounded so happy to hear from her.

Mai's mouth dropped open. It was _subterfuge_. Naru was clearly working against her better efforts.

She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "You're getting desperate," she hissed.

Mai knew that everyone wanted her to remember what happened with Clay and what better way than to speak to the person whom Mai more often than not pulled into her visions than Hara Masako.

"Ahem, Taniyama-san," wrung out the tiny Medium's voice. "I heard that, and while, I appreciate your distaste of me and heartily reciprocate it to a much further degree than your tiny brain may comprehend, you are still, as of yet, unproductive, and therefore in need of my careful assistance."

"Is that so?" Mai muttered, eying Naru severely. He was sitting at his desk, calmly swiveling in his chair, equally assessing her in turn.

"So you're suffering from lack of inspiration to trigger your visions, hmm?" The cultured tone burrowed further under Mai's skin until she was visibly bristling. Across the room, Naru leaned forward, withholding his speculation for further evidence.

Masako made a wondering noise. "You're _one asset_ is nullified, and I honestly don't know why they called me. As I am a continent away, there's not much else I can offer than 'hurry up and be useful,'" the medium pondered, not waiting for any sort of inclination from Mai. "What could Naru possibly see in you? There's absolutely no use in you, therefore, no use in talking to you. I think we can both acknowledge that I'm wasting my breath now. Please hand the phone over to Naru."

Shaking from her quick dismissal, Mai handed the phone back to Naru stiffly, the plastic of the phone smacking against his palm as she ceded the phone to him.

"Naru," the medium's tone softened noticeably. "I take it from your tone that my aggravation of her didn't work."

Naru leaned the chair back further. "I haven't said anything yet. As to how you interpret a tone from silence is beyond even me."

Masako gave a girlish murmur. "You didn't have to," she said, ignoring the latter remark. "So she's absorbing your ki now?" She asked quietly.

"Lin told you?"

"I check in on you."

Naru had no response to that.

"With the exception of one or two methods, I can't think of anything to work. Inducing stress always seems to encourage primal responses."

"So you're saying—"

"You can politely push her into oncoming traffic—"

Naru actually scoffed, sounding harried.

"With a helmet, of course. Safety first—"

Naru shook his head, and Masako continued at his silent insistence. "_I didn't mean actually throwing her into traffic._ With her, it just has to be imminent threat."

Naru rubbed a hand over face slowly, aggravated. "Well, your medium abilities precede you." He's paused and they're all waiting to hear the pin drop. "She's already walked into oncoming traffic—"

"Did not." Mai snapped, but she was largely ignored. "Was on the sidewalk. _Almost _walked into traffic. _Almost."_

Naru narrowed his eyes at her. (Idiot.)

"And when in, loosely-termed 'danger,' there was no response to the impetus."

Masako paused, considering. "Were you present both times?"

"Yes."

Masako let the thought sink in, then 'hem-hem'ed politely.

Naru pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a rise in pressure. "You think I shouldn't be there, and let her relive the efforts."

The medium measured this with considering noise. "Lin mentioned that you two were ki-linked, or some other drivel," Masako said, her ever-polite demeanor faltering. She quickly recovered. "Which is charming, and perhaps, life-saving, but also inhibiting. Let her try something perilous on her own. See the outcome. I'll wager you'll be pleasantly surprised, and then you may sweep in gallantly."

Naru chuckled darkly. It made the hair on her arms stand straight up.

"You sound bitter, Hara-san."

She clucked back at him, demurely patronizing. "I prefer enamored with an unwilling subject. I believe they call it 'unrequited.'"

Naru's emerging smirk further stoked the anger welling in Mai.

"Trying to eliminate the competition?"

"Perhaps, leveling the playing field is more astute. Have I duped you into tying her to a railroad track?"

"Not likely."

"I did not think so. In that case, we'll keep our Mai safe, shall we?" Her mood shifted swiftly from gest to assessing and serious. Mercurial-like. "Have you thought of triggering stimuli for response?"

"We've put her in the Tank a number of times now."

Masako's distaste was evident in the subtle changing of her breathing.

"Not subconscious stimulation," she chided. "_Physical_ Stimili. Sight, touch, taste." Naru felt for a moment he was being scolded on his own specialty.

"We haven't."

"Well, try sensory memory. It's worked well enough before."

"For you," he implied, actively curious. Mai noted the change in tone and observed him suspiciously.

A pause. "_Perhaps_. Perhaps, a little too well." Her tone grew quiet and somber in memory. "Hospitals are too sterile smelling for my likings nowadays. And I prefer Vlad well-kept in his burnt crypt, if you please."

The memory of Vlad's blood bath and all the missing persons surrounding the Prime Minister's estate was better left to rest, but Naru's quick mind slipped into one dark memory before he quickly shut the door to the rest of those thoughts.

Masako gone. Mai disappearing beneath his watch. A blood-chilling shriek, and then finding the two of them in a horrifying surgery. Knives, Bloody footsteps, a creature so malignant—

A brief tremor shook his hands, but he suppressed it by squeezing the phone tighter until the plastic creaked.

"I'll think on your advice, Hara-san. Thank you for your insight."

"My pleasure." She hung up, and Naru was momentarily pensive on how well she knew him. He didn't observe all niceties, wouldn't have said goodbye and Masako knew that. If not for his own favoring of Mai, willing or not, he and Masako would have made a fair match. Not a happy one, but a fair one.

Across the room, the one, who had argued, cried, vexed, and fought her way into his life, sat divinely angry and beautiful in her current loathing of him. In large part due to Masako, but he'd egged it on with carefully chosen, and obscurely veiled words he'd exchanged with Hara.

Her ire almost brought a smile to his face.

Instead of attempting to diffuse her anger, he returned to his desk and rifled through his open drawer, searching for a certain something.

Mai wasn't known for her patience, or ladylike bearing. "Well?" She snapped.

Naru closed the first drawer and opened the lower cabinet in his desk, pushing files aside in his search.

"Naru," she warned. Deliberately disregarding her, Naru continued rummaging until his hands struck something solid. Not his paperwork.

He pulled it out and stood. The VHS tape creaked and rattled ominously. Dust flooded the air when Naru blew over it and looked to Mai in vindication. "A moment."

He walked around her to the cabinets behind her and opened a wooden panel. Behind it, electronics were concealed. A stereo, an older projection TV, a DVD player and behind that, Naru's hand found the VHS player. He hoisted the player into view and pressed the tape in, emitting a low noise when it didn't go in without anything powering it.

Mai half-laughed, found the dangling cord and plugged it in.

It worked. The machine whirred to life and Naru motioned Mai back to his desk.

He sat down and looked at Mai almost expectantly. It was his blank look, his usual, but Mai was good—no, _excellent—_at interpreting Naru's subtle expressions.

A tilt of her head indicated her answer. "I'll stand thanks."

Contemplatively, he watched her, then opened his drawer. In his hand, he held an old pocket watch complete with rusted chain. The golden coat was scratched and worn away in spots, but it was lovely in its age. He handed it to Mai, and she took it carefully, hearing the loose pieces inside chime as they rolled against the inner workings of the device.

"This was Gene's. He didn't carry it with him often. Hated it, actually, but it was our grandfather's, and whenever he was actively trying to channel, or perform an exorcism, he carried this. He seemed to have a notion that it helped him focus. Whatever it did, or did not do, Gene always performed exceptionally when he had it. Would you care to try it?"

Mai nodded, oddly stricken for words that Naru had shared something so personal of Gene's with her. When it came to his twin, Naru was incredibly protective of his memories, and tried to keep everything between the two of them, Gene and Mai, separate, at least in regards to him. He already had more competition with his dead brother than he liked.

Naru shrugged, an almost imperceptible movement of his shoulders, and clicked the television on. Static lit the screen and the hypnotic sound and sight drew her under. Why was static familiar…?

Psychic static? It was a way to bar psychic penetration from things like telepaths, or malevolent spirits. Emptying your head of all thoughts was how she had interpreted it. Gene had mentioned that once. But his definition was a little skewed from the original static she was sure the term's creator had meant.

A memory, one of Gene's endless lessons…

* * *

_Psychic static._

'_I like to think of it as thinking of something, rather than nothing. If you're thinking of nothing, an infinite amount of things can pop to your mind with the right wording. Imagine you're facing a bad guy—don't look at me like that, there are bad guys.'_

'_Okay, Astro Boy-sama,' Mai mocked. _

'_Anyway,' her spirit guide muttered, momentarily distracted, 'If you aren't thinking of anything, then I can say thinks like Peaches, or Santa Claus, right? And you think of it. A jolly guy; red one-sy; plump, red cheeks; bringing presents to all the good girls of the world. That would be you.'_

'_Me, good. Bad Guys, bad. Got it.'_

'_If you're going to be petulant about this…'_

_Mai saluted him. 'Go on, Captain.'_

_Gene glowered. 'But if you have something in your mind that can wholly distract you—'_

'_Candy, and bad test scores?'_

_Gene shrugged, 'I think of girls in bikinis.''_

_Mai's expression soured. 'Pig.'_

'_Opportunist," he corrected. 'If I get to pick what distracts me 100%, then I'll pick my poison. And girls in bikinis are a sweet, sweet poison.' Gene studied her expression, his own darkening in thought. 'It's okay, Mai. You can admit to Naru being your wholly encompassing distraction.'_

'_Shut up, Gene.'_

'_Cursing me doesn't make it any less true—'_

'_Jerk.' _

_Gene slung an arm around Mai's shoulders. 'Admitting a weakness makes it less of a weakness.' He smiled._

'_With that in mind, let's go get the bad guys.'_

'_All right, partner.'_

Something he had said shifted the memory, and even in front of Naru, she felt herself swept in the undertow, the familiar feel of a vision.

* * *

_For some reason, this vision took to her more wholly than before. Others had a cold and sweeping air to them, leaving her feeling unwanted and unwelcome. They were harder to see, harder to understand everything it tried to offer her. This one embraced her, launched her into with startling clarity through physical sensation, but not as much eyesight._

_It's Clay in front of her, down the darkened corridor and she can feel his laughter again like a vibration across her skin. She can't see anything, but she can feel the memory replaying. He's laughing, but it's not humorous. He's upset, laughing, but clearly disturbed over something. _

_A sick feeling begins clawing its way up her stomach and into her throat. Buried in Clay's torso is a gaping, glistening black hole no larger than her fist, but it's wet, festering and heartbreaking all at once. The tendrils of its malignant reach writhe for further purchase._

_Clay winces._

_And suddenly Mai knows. She can see its killing him, shortening his lifespan, but that's not her real concern. She knows that's not why she's in the vision. Clay knew he was dying before. That's not why he's here, to share in his heartache. _

_Clay's oddly accented voice clears her mind. _

'_You've a strange brand of psychic barriers. Psychic static, really? It's almost archaic, but I appreciate the novelty in it.' Clay places his fingers over his mouth to hide his careful amusement of her._

_Mai is immobile, unsure of what to do, to say._

_He shakes his head, his careful rapture broken. 'I'm impolite, sorry. I get a tad touchy when someone,' he makes a sweeping, gallant gesture from his torso and outward, 'when someone sees this. It's not my best side.'_

'_What is it?' Mai whispers._

_His smile is crooked, broken. 'Does it matter?'_

_Mai looks up carefully from the wound. 'No.' She sniffs shortly, before rubbing at her eyes. She's crying. 'You'll die of it anyway.'_

_Clay himself makes a forlorn sound, and clears his throat, remembering that, he too, knows that's not why he's here. Sadly, they both have to keep reminding each other, but with the elephant in the room poking its tusk through the gaping, mortal wound in his gut, it's suddenly understandable that they're easily distracted._

'_That's not why you're here.' He's speaking her thoughts and again, Mai isn't surprised anymore that she thinks things before people actually say them. It's happened far too often for her to be unnerved with it anymore._

'_I know.' She hesitates, suddenly wary, 'Show me.'_

_His smile is careful now, tormented but held up by rigid scaffolding, which is always temporary and tenuous at best. 'If you don't mind…' he says apologetically. And Mai, with the first tears tracking down her cheeks, glances politely away._

_There's a wet noise. She knows he's reaching inside himself. It feels like he's goring his soul along with her own. She holds down a nervous tickle in her abdomen. If she even thinks about it, she'll vomit, she just knows it._

_She turns when he's done, and in his hands is a mixture of black and red. A swirl of colors off which no light reflects anymore. In his hands, it twitches, a live thing. His sullied heart. Alive and beating in his hands. _

'_Good and Evil aren't so different,' he says, and squeezes the heart back, returning its embrace. Mai gags, tries to cover the wince with her hands, but it's too late; she turns to the side, and retches miserably._

* * *

"Did the watch help?"

Mai snapped upright, her eyes fixed solely on the wooden grain of his desk. Reeling, she studied only one knot in the wood, keeping her eyes on it until the feeling of vertigo dissipates. It didn't take long to pass. She knows that she has gotten better at this.

Naru easily, but firmly pulled her down onto his lap, settling her backward until her back was flush against his front. His arms rested on her lap, not restraining, but just a reassuring reminder of his presence. It was comforting, and the gentle rocking of his chair even more so.

She gulped heavily, swallowing down the emotions before speaking.

"No, it's just a regular watch." She said it with certainty, but still ran a finger lovingly around the edge of it. Mai didn't want to have to explain anymore, didn't want to have to recall the visage of the cancerous, bloody heart beating out an irregular staccato in Clay's loosely clamped fingers. The watch reminded her of the vision and the sickness began to swell within her gut at the thought.

She held the watch, clutched it once and then carefully handed it back, suddenly wanting it out of her hands. Gene's or not, it left her feeling queasy now. "How long was I out?"

"Not even a moment. It was fairly quick. I felt you slip away, and then you were back."

Mai nodded, but remained silent.

"Did you learn anything?"

She shook her head. No, nothing that she wanted to talk about, that was certain.

"Anything I can help with?" His tone was slightly insistent, like he would be the answer if she just accepted his help.

Mai swallowed. "No. It's—I'm not sure how to explain it."

She felt him nod against the top of her head. "Clay?" He guessed.

She nodded, affirming it. His breath shifted the hair behind her ear.

"Well, that's a start…" He said, leading her.

Mai felt suddenly indulgent and as usual, trusted the feeling behind her sudden change of heart. It hadn't led her astray yet.

"It was just Clay. Laughing, crying." She wrung her hands together until her knuckles were white. The image of his bloody, black heart was enough to give anyone pause. "Naru, just…" She breathed. "…give me a moment. I don't want to make something out of nothing."

She sniffed as tears pricked her eyes briefly. "He's dying. That I knew for sure."

Naru made a low noise of agreement that vibrated through his chest to her back. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we're all dying a little bit more—every day, Mai."

Mai elbowed him. "You know what I mean."

"I do?"

She growled, pulling at the color of his shirt with a vicious tug.

"Hmm," he said in careful response. "In the meantime, I have something to watch. You're welcome to join me while you think on Clay."

"What is it?"

"You ask a fairly large number of questions."

"You avoid a lot of answers on a regular basis," she shot back.

His arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her more comfortably against him, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Stop talking," he murmured.

Mai noted that he sounded more gentle than usual and settled in without a fight. There was a time and a place. Maybe now didn't have to be it.

The TV screen that he had hidden behind the wooden panels flickered from static, then blue, and finally settled on a picture Mai couldn't make heads or tails of. The screen tilted as the camera angle was corrected, and in it, the image of a younger, brooding boy sat on a stainless steel stool across from a stainless steel table with a box of some sort resting on top of it.

He had a scowl that was all too familiar, but as of yet as refined and perfected as the one behind her. It was more sour than dispassionate. It was a teenager's sullen gaze.

It was Naru at younger than she'd met him. She'd place that bowl haircut at around 13 or 14 years of age.

The screen flickered and transferred across the laboratory. The same laboratory that was just down the hall if Mai was correct.

A boy, similar to the first, was buoyant, striding around the lab with his finger tracing along the glass walls behind him. "Seems fine," he said, nonchalantly. "It'll hold up." His voice sounded muffled. Far away. A research camera with an obviously shoddy microphone.

"Gene," Mai said, sinking into Naru, but instantly more alert.

Eugene Davis, alive and well at 13 or 14, just years before his death.

One voice came through clearly: "**Positions then, please**." Dr. Brandt.

Her brow pinched in wary reaction, an instant reflex to his authoritarian tone.

Mai put her feet up on his desk, bracing her weight and watched the low-quality film play. Naru shifted and her feet slipped off the desk, now out of reach. Mai rolled her eyes, but sat up in annoyance, and leaned against the desk on her elbows.

She put more weight on her arm and then jerked upright, clutching the inside of her elbow.

"Ow," she said, frowning. "Why does that hurt?"

Naru frowned. "They got a blood sample from you. The puncture is in the crease of your elbow. You didn't notice?" He says skeptical of her.

Naru shook his head. "Oblivious," he muttered like she wasn't 18 inches from him.

Mai studied her arm closely. "_They did," _she agreed, her mouth puckering in obvious displeasure._ "_There's a mark." She turned to Naru with vague concern in her eyes. "Why?"

"Why is there a puncture—or—"

Mai eyed him narrowly over her shoulder. The angle diminished the impact, but Naru felt her attempting to scald him with her willpower alone. "Why did they need my blood?"

Naru considered how to placate her, then reaching around her, paused the film with a click of the remote. "Dr. Oehler mentioned that it might reveal what was happening to you," he said, doubt obvious in his voice. Mai bit the tip of her nail, but dropped her hand away from her mouth when she realized what she was doing.

"How would she be able to tell that? Do I have less red blood cells or something? _Psychically-induced low blood sugar?"_ Mai said tersely.

Naru tilted his head, assessing the forethoughts. "Dr. Oehler is a molecular biologist," he murmured, considering. "She very well might be able to tell why." He leaned back in his chair to look at her more easily.

"Just a moment ago, you didn't think she could," Mai said guardedly.

Naru lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I don't think she can tell," he admitted, "but I also know that's not why she wanted a blood sample. She also wanted my blood for comparison," he said indifferently.

Mai's frown deepened. "Why?" She asked, confusion spreading.

A bare smile crept on his face. The kind of infuriating smile when he wouldn't tell her something. He looked back to the screen in front of them and clicked 'play' again.

Gene was on the screen again. She couldn't hear him. He was doing some funny movements with his arms which looked oddly familiar—

—until he made a weird face, puckering his lips—and she knew it was a video game move—hadouken, or something. Gene _was such a dork._

After a brief moment, things grew serious and at her back, Naru shifted as the point to pay attention had obviously arrived. Younger Naru flickered back on screen and he stood, arms crossed, form rigid. Short, no growth spurt as of yet. A thin, wiry form. Lanky. No muscle. He was only a child.

He was also distinctly spindling energy. She could tell from the far-away sounding, eerie echo of lightning in the air which was synonymous with Naru calling power.

In her gut, fear and worry were sinking sharp talons into her. She tensed at the memory and reached behind her to find Naru's hand once again. She gripped it tighter as the sound grew louder, but was equally as rapt as she was frightened.

A small bead of light appeared in front of him. Ki in physical form. A lightning shade of blue that flickered out and then back in brighter than before.

Younger Naru watched the small ball of light with nothing short of disappointment.

Mai waited for the Naru at her hip to say something. He didn't.

The screen split in half, showing both Naru and Gene at the same time, but from a different angle this time.

_So many cameras_, Mai thought with awe.

Gene settled into his own comfortable form and beckoned with his hands. The ball of light disappeared from Naru's screen and reappeared in front of Gene, exponentially brighter, but not larger. They did this at least three more times before the ball of light began floating towards Naru.

The sound was unbearably loud now, and Mai made a small cry, refusing to shut her eyes and miss anything. Naru lowered the volume as the recollection seemed to be bothering him as equally. The younger Naru reached out, impatient, but accepting. His concentrated gaze seemed to pull the ki light inward, until finally his arms crossed over one another in a ghostly embrace and the ball receded into Naru, disappearing.

On the left side of the screen, the camera flickered from Gene, turning black before flicking to the empty box on the stainless steel table.

_That's not a box._ Mai inched forward, reaching to be closer to the screen.

"It says 50 kilograms," Naru said distractedly. "Aluminum." Mai risked a glance at him. His head was perched on his fingertips resting at his temple.

He was watching her, not the video.

"I've seen it," he explained.

Mildly annoyed, Mai said, "Don't read my face like that. You know I hate that." She turned before she saw the undoubtedly smug smile crack the solemnity of his face.

Mai was still turned halfway around when she heard a loud crash echo from the speakers.

The block of aluminum wasn't on the table anymore. "Ah, I missed it," she sighed dourly, and patted Naru on the leg insistently. "Rewind it."

"They'll replay it," he said succinctly.

He was right. Half a minute after that they showed the completely flattened sheet of metal that had once been square-shaped.

Then they ran it again. And again.

They replayed the box flying across the room from six different angles. In the corner of the screen, a number ticker ran, showing the moment of impact reading at 10:34:06 at each recurrence. They wanted to verify that it wasn't merely a box shot six different times, but one shot from six angles. And they all would pause at that same moment.

10:34:06.

They had frozen the time of impact down to the millisecond.

Mai let out a heavy breath and Naru watched her reaction curiously. She met his gaze after a second and said, "Amazing," before squeezing his hand with reverence in her voice.

Naru inhaled, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Mai could read the silence like her could read her face. He was part prideful mixed with a hint of something joyful in nature, happy he had accomplished it, and then somber all at once, at the forfeiture of not only his power, but a greater loss in his brother.

"That's the video Masako was talking about. The one from the American Convention?"

"Yes." Naru pulled at the front of his shirt and looked resolutely at the static on the screen.

"I've learned not to be recorded since then." He gave a resigned, somewhat self-critical smile.

Mai nodded, then waited as Naru looked to be thinking deeply on something. Reminiscing on Gene? When he'd been alive?

Naru ran a tentative finger down her tricep, and then pinched her elbow. "Your preternatural abilities have officially flat-lined."

"Officially? Not in actuality," she joked, poking at his chest. "I'm glad you made the executive decision for me," she said, sounding somewhat maligned.

"Officially," he repeated.

"As in we're not telling them anything else. No more testing. We're done?" Mai wasn't sure how Naru expected her to react to this, so her tone was accordingly wary.

"All of the above," he said equally solemn. "Nothing has come of this trip. And I think any more time spent away from your home continent could potentially be more damaging to your ki." The hand at her waist tapped at her hip as if emphasizing the point.

Mai accepted the information with slight tingle of knowledge and no little twinge of discomfort. Maybe she should tell him about the cracks in her well of ki were healing. Slowly healing, but healing nonetheless.

But if her ki was healing, that meant that she was less of a leach on Naru's power which is something that he would have noticed immediately…so he already must have known, the clever, _deceptive_—

At the same time, she found it altogether satisfying to hear such finality in the words, though the feeling had been tempered by the all too obvious discontent and lethargy in Naru's voice.

Mai tested her words. "Well, that's…" She had expected her throat to be tight, but she hadn't expected to feel...almost embarrassed. Embarrassed for disappointing him, for failing to demonstrate all the claims in the reports he had made back at Shibuya. Back when things had been a fair bit simpler. He looked like a liar now, and Mai swallowed roughly at that thought. "Okay," she said, annoyed at how forlorn her voice sounded.

Naru sat back in the desk chair and rested his hands on the arms. "Not apologetic?" He prodded.

Mai ran through the list of adjectives that described her current mental, physical and philosophical state. Apologetic was not one of them. Not if it meant feeling sorry for that...maggot Brandt.

She shook her head. "Absolutely not. I know what I am, professionally, psychically tested or not."

"And as for my research?" He asked. Mai could hear the smirk behind his carefully even tone.

Mai strangled a small smile. "I'm sure you'll manage." She leaned forward, briefly pecking his cheek before she hopped off of his lap.

Naru raised an eyebrow, but didn't move. "Where are you off to?"

Mai joined her fingers and turned them outward, stretching. "If we're finishing up here, I wanted to see the others before we leave."

"To apologize?"

Mai answered by way of undignified snort. "We'll send the doctors a condolence card."

Naru crooked a finger at her. _Come here. _Mai smiled demurely, but crept closer, an answering smile creeping upward like the cat with a canary.

"Hmm?" She leaned closer over him.

"Happy?" Naru tilted his head up to her, still her ever serious boss.

"Unbelievably." She leaned forward and kissed him lightly.

It began in her toes. Like when she was a young kid creating static electricity by dragging her socked feet over carpet, the feeling zipped up the back of her legs, then her spine. She snapped up rigidly and winced.

"OW!" She turned her feral look on Naru who, as usual, hadn't experienced it. "Could you please cut that out!" Mai bristled. "I thought you said I was officially nullified—powerless-_tank on empty_. But if I'm getting better which means producing my own ki—which means _not stealing yours._ That means you should be at full capacity and there should be no kind of…of _conductivity_ between us. _What was that_?"

Despite asking him directly, Naru appeared to have not heard her. Mai could see him performing mental math and coming up short of some variables. The wrinkle in his brow deepened. Mai guessed the variables were being difficult.

"It was me," he said finally. "Projecting. A sort of psychic 'boiling-over,' perhaps. Maybe." He'd answered her. Mai wanted to gape, but quickly made space between them by heading for the door.

Mai skipped a couple steps, slowing turning to address him. Nothing more was going to come of this (from the pensive look on Naru's face-closed off, and calculating) and she wanted to make her farewells.

She reached the door, and called over her shoulder. "At least, you're not leaching—like a parasite. You're just a rusty valve. A much more attractive prospect."

* * *

She'd barely made it out the door when her first inclination that something was wrong itched at the forefront of her mind.

Her intuition. It was back! Not in full capacity, but better than nothing!

Before when she used it in the early stages of her power's development, it had seemed like something out of the recesses of her mind occasionally poking and prodding her in the right direction (a reactive power, rather than a controlled, proactive one), but this reawakening felt more like a new awareness blossoming from the base of her neck to the temples. She turned right, it pulsed.

A warning.

And down the hall, there it was. The problem.

Naki.

Mai pursed her lips tightly. She really hated this laboratory. She glanced towards Naru's office out of the corner of her eye, unwilling to take her eyes off Naki. Naru wouldn't be able to sense her. Not with his power up and running at full capacity again. He wouldn't be able to sense any longer, not past his own self.

Naki floated and bounced, a kind of dance like no one was watching until the light fluttered briefly before stilling. The creature spotted Mai.

She felt Naki turn her watchful 'eye' upon Mai with a stillness that pinned Mai's feet to the floor like two stakes had been driven through them.

Mai didn't move.

Naki didn't move.

But if Naki was around, so was Lin, but why, why, why would he let her off her leash so soon after the last incident?

The thought didn't help the situation anyway. Naki had reacted like a guilty child being caught out of its bed after hours. But the intensity of Naki's scrutiny didn't sit well. It had intelligence. Something Mai hadn't known the creature possessed before. A frightening prospect as Mai could tell the demon was analyzing the options.

The anxiety built in Mai's stomach until she let out a shaky gasp. She hadn't been breathing.

She could call for Naru—

At her thought, Naki grew brighter.

A warning.

Mai's heart skipped a beat. She stepped hesitantly backward…

…and fell.

* * *

_Cursed Naki...at it again._

_Next Chapter: Beyond Good and Evil_

_(Subtitle: Genghis Kahn)_


End file.
